


I will not be myself

by Ellidiotts



Series: No one can be themselves, if they only act like someone else [1]
Category: Living With Yourself (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Break Up, Depression, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Kissing, Love Confessions, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miles needs a hug, Misunderstandings, New Miles gets his own name for the sake of my own sanity, Pining, Rough Sex, Self-cest, Suicide Attempt, Violence, What Have I Done, Yes I'm a huge fan of Ant-Man how could you tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 82,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellidiotts/pseuds/Ellidiotts
Summary: After the existence of Miles’ clone becomes known to their wife, both of them are kicked out of the house with only the clothes on their back.With their collective life over, the two of them must learn to live with each other if they have any hope of moving on.
Relationships: New Miles Elliot/Original Miles Elliot (Living With Yourself)
Series: No one can be themselves, if they only act like someone else [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920415
Comments: 50
Kudos: 50





	1. I hate you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by, and title stolen from - [Deer Tick - I will not be myself](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Suv_j37wWDQ).
> 
> Well, this took me forever to post. I wish I wasn't so nit-picky with my own writing. I still can't believe I'm writing selfcest, but I guess _technically_ this isn't the first time I've done so. 
> 
> Some notes:  
> \- Many events from the show are still here, but slightly different or changed around;  
> \- Mostly takes place from New Miles' perspective as he comes to terms with... many things;  
> \- Please read the tags to make sure you know what you're in for.
> 
> I'm trying my best to keep everyone in character, which is surprisingly difficult, but I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> If anyone's reading this, I'd love to know what you think... :3c

Miles had been cloned.

But that wasn’t the worst part of this whole situation. Not only had he been cloned-- he _was_ the clone. He was the ‘new’ Miles, so to speak.

The realisation had hit him hard.

He had no identity. Not even a name to call his own. All of his knowledge and memories were nothing more than a copy of someone else’s. They weren’t his, so what did that make him?

“He’s been… great as me. Better than I could ever be,” he heard Miles-- the real, _original_ Miles-- say to his wife. “I’m sorry for the way things have been _... I am_. But I needed this.”

The two of them were in an intense conversation regarding him-- _the clone--_ and what this meant for their relationship. He was sitting there, in the lounge room, like an awkward, unwanted third wheel-- but that’s not what it felt like to him. 

He still _felt_ like Miles.

He _was_ Miles. 

He had all those memories bouncing around in his head. He felt like he’d already lived half a lifetime. But now he was to believe that he was only a few days old?

It just didn’t make sense, no matter how hard he thought about it. 

How was he to believe that everything that had happened to him-- every memory, every single day, every _kiss_ \-- was nothing more than implanted experiences had by someone else? How would he ever know that anything he felt was _real_?

It just wasn’t _fair--_

“I needed _him._ ” Miles’ words brought him back to the present, looking up at the conversation still at hand. “I still do.”

Was he… was Miles really referring to him?

Both sets of eyes were on him now. Miles and Kate were silent, waiting for him to say something, or perhaps add something-- maybe even plead a case to defend his existence.

New Miles wasn’t entirely sure what to say. But he only had his wife’s best interests at heart, no matter what they might be.

“It’s up to Kate,” he stated. “It’s her choice.”

His eyes flickered to the original Miles, then to their wife, and finally back down to the floor below his feet.

It was the first thing that he’d managed to get out since this whole conversation started. Ever since a few hours ago, when everything was going just perfectly-- until the _real_ Miles had decided to turn up, and show to the world that they both existed, and throwing their life as they knew it into chaos.

“I don’t even know what to _say_ ,” Kate announced in disbelief. “But I do know one thing-- I want _you,_ ” she pointed at Miles, before turning to his clone. “And _him--_ whatever he is-- _out of this house._ ”

New Miles looked up at his doppelganger, who appeared on edge and desperate to respond. He, too, wanted to protest-- he had so many things he wanted to say, to explain to her...

But Kate wasn’t finished with them yet.

“ _Tonight_.”

And with that, she gave them both one final, disgusted glance, and disappeared upstairs.

* * *

Miles sat ridgedly in the front seat of his car, side-eyeing the man to his right-- the man who had single-handedly destroyed his life in a matter of days, purely by _existing._

A perfect clone-- in every sense of the word, was beside him, sitting comfortably. His vision was restored, meaning Miles was left with his glasses. His posture was great, compared to the way Miles hunched over and held his shoulders. His hair was always neat and tidy, matching his nicely dressed self, and Miles looks like he just came out of a three day alcohol binge.

It disgusted him, seeing himself like that-- a way he hadn’t been in years, a persona he’d never be able to achieve again. What had he done so wrong in his life to deserve this kind of punishment? How was it _fair_?

“What are you looking at?” His clone asked with a straight face. “What do you want me to say?”

Miles looked away, staring down at the steering wheel and pushing his keys into the ignition. His hand stilled, considering where they’d even go at this point. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

They had no plan. They had no other place to go. What was he going to do?

He leant back, crossing his arms with a sigh. There were some options… perhaps. The last thing he wanted to do was bother his sister-- there was no way that he-- _they_ \-- would free-load off of her. Which led to his friends, of which he had none. 

It was only now that he’d realised that. At what point in the last few years had he pushed everyone he knew away? When did they all disappear from his life?

He was out of ideas.

“So... what do you propose we do now?” Miles asked his double, still avoiding eye contact. He knew that his _stupid perfect clone_ was sure to have at least _something_ up his sleeve.

“We’ll find a hotel,” New Miles replied. “Then… we’ll start looking at apartments tomorrow.”

Miles hummed. That seemed straight-forward enough. A temporary solution for a temporary problem.

Wait-- what did he just say?

“Apartments?”

New Miles raised an eyebrow, staring at him unamused. “Where the _hell_ have you been, mentally, for the last hour?”

Miles blinked, not following the logic behind his words. 

“She kicked us _both_ out.”

“Yeah, me, for now, but--”

“You’ve been _dumped_ . We _both_ have.”

Kate… she didn’t _really_ mean what she said, right? This wasn’t going to be a permanent break-up, he was sure… Miles had no idea what he’d do if she left him forever.

That’s… that wasn’t what this was.

“What? _No_ , she just needs some time to think about this. She’ll come to her senses and take me back in a few days. This isn’t the first time.”

“Wow, you must _really_ be in shock right now.”

“Hey, if it weren’t for _you_ everything would be just _fine._ ”

“Would it, though?” New Miles asked. “Are you _seriously_ telling me that your relationship has been perfect the last few years?”

“Well, not perfect, no, but--”

“I’ve got the same memories as you. I know that’s bullshit. We’ve been drifting apart for a while now, it’s easy for me to see looking back. I’m surprised she didn’t do this _sooner_ , to be honest.”

“Don’t feed me that garbage-- we were going to work things out if you didn’t show up--”

New Miles hummed, unamused. “Keep using me as an excuse. It’s what I’d do if I were you,” _which I am--_ the words remained unsaid, but clearly implied in his tone. “But now I can see clearly. You are _completely_ delusional.”

Miles was pissed, jaw clenching. “Get out,” he ordered.

“ _Make me,_ ” New Miles grinned at him. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

Miles cursed under his breath. He knew he’d never get rid of him that easily.

A silence fell between the two of them, as Miles felt the awkwardness of the conversation creeping on him. Surely there were other options, or another way-- he had to do _something_. He needed to think. He needed to be alone-- but having this unwanted part of him following him around was making him more stressed than he already was right now. 

“By the way, we’d _share_ the apartment, if that wasn’t obvious already,” his clone added, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Wha--” Miles looked at him with a look of complete disbelief. “Oh _hell_ no-- I will _not_ be sharing a place with you!”

New Miles raised an eyebrow at his tone, patience wearing thin. “How are we _both_ going to afford our own places on a _single wage,_ huh?” He questioned, voice rising with irritation. “You even stop to consider that?”

Miles blinked, taken aback by the shift in tone of the conversation, realisation flashing over his eyes as the words sunk in. 

Shit, he was right. 

They were both _technically_ the same person, working a single job, for a single wage. Considering his current income, that would allow for one decent sized unit, or two _very_ shitty apartments. That was before he even considered the furniture, bills, rates, food...

As much as he’d _hate_ sharing-- especially with the likes of _him_ \-- it was better than starving and living in poverty.

“Okay,” Miles reluctantly agreed. “We’ll live together-- but _just_ long enough to figure out… everything.”

The two of them nodded in silent agreement, and Miles started up the engine, heading in the direction of the nearest hotel. He didn’t want to travel far, as he was already positively exhausted with the shittiness that was the _entirety_ of today.

It was probably only for a few days, anyway. He was sure Kate would come to her senses, realise how much they meant to each other, and take him back.

Right…?

Miles couldn’t even believe that this was happening. The last week had been like a dream-- no, more like a _nightmare._ Not only had he nearly died, he’d wound up with a clone of himself, and now lost both his house _and_ his wife, and any future that might have been there for him.

He couldn’t give up yet. He could win her back.

He _had_ to.

There was no way he could live with himself otherwise.

* * *

They found a motel not too far from home, or at least-- from the place that they once called home. 

It took twenty minutes before they arrived, and it held an unbearably long and awkward silence. New Miles was thankful for that, because getting into another argument was not at the top of his priority list right now. 

He was tired. It was late. He just wanted to find a bed and collapse.

Fortunately for them, there was a single spare room left, and it even had two beds. That could have turned out far worse. Considering their lack of possessions, it didn’t take them long to settle in. 

Miles sat on one of the beds, huddled in the corner and flooding the room with a depressing aura.

“What’s your deal?” New Miles asked, rolling his eyes.

“I’m still trying to comprehend that my life, as I know it, is over,” Miles commented to the floor.

“So am I,” his clone agreed. “I’m the same as you. Don’t forget that.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, finding his double up and in his personal space within seconds. Judging by the look in his eyes, he was itching for another fight.

“Oh, _no_ \-- you don’t get to be upset. I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for _you_ ,” Miles gritted through his teeth, with a poke to his chest. 

“How about for once in your life, you own up to your mistakes,” New Miles replied.

He was sick and tired of everyone blaming _him_ for this situation, as if he _wanted_ this to happen. He could see how offended Miles was by his words, but it was _his_ time to talk.

“You think I _asked_ for this?” New Miles continued, unintentionally raising his voice, and watching as the other man flinched. “Last time I checked, it was _you_ who went to the spa, _you_ who sunk fifty thousand dollars into--”

He paused, mouth agape. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit that he wasn’t himself.

 _Me--_ he wanted to shout-- _me_ , a fifty thousand dollar _mistake._

Miles backed down, eyes widened. He stared at him for another moment, lips pursed, before turning back to his bed.

Was that all New Miles was now? An accident? A regret? Could it even be possible for him to find a place in a world where he wasn’t welcomed?

That wasn’t _what_ he was. He just wanted everything to go back to normal, but he knew it was impossible at this point. If he’d had the guts to somehow get rid of Miles before the shit hit the fan, even that wouldn’t have been enough.

 _Who was he kidding?_ Even if there was only _one_ Miles, it would be impossible to fix what had become of his marriage, no matter how hard he tried. It was in his best interest to just… move on with his life, however he might accomplish that. 

Right now, it was one step at a time.

“Look, you need to realise that I am as real and as independent as you are. I’ve been through _exactly_ what you have. My feelings are the same. A little respect would go a long way.”

New Miles wasn’t expecting a response, and he didn’t care for one either. But he felt like there had to be some ground rules made between them, so that they didn’t end up killing each other. At this moment, he just needed some time to himself, and some space somewhere that wasn’t surrounded by grief and anger.

The only place left was outside. That would have to do, at least, for a little while. 

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you,” Miles muttered, watching as the clone walked past him.

If that was the best response he could muster, it was a very poor attempt. 

New Miles paused by the door, letting out a long, exacerbated sigh, before turning his head. There were plenty of insults he wanted to say and so many other things which would lead into another argument, he was sure of it. But right now, he was far too tired to deal with any more of this shit.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he replied dryly, before shutting the door behind him.

It was dark outside. Quiet. Exactly what he needed. Some fresh air, some time to think, even just some space to himself-- before he went completely insane.

* * *

Miles made no effort to look up or acknowledge the presence of his clone once he returned to the room. New Miles wasn’t in the mood to talk regardless, so for that he was thankful. But the last hour had given him some time to think, and to plan the next steps to go from where they were currently. He just wanted to lie down in bed for now-- he’d had a big enough day as is, so could benefit from a good night’s rest to recharge himself and get his head back on straight. 

New Miles glanced at his doppelganger, finding him engrossed with whatever he was doing on his phone. He looked like a mess of emotions, as the brightness of the screen flickered against his features. He continued to tap away, before bringing the phone up to his ear. New Miles could hear the faint sound of a dial tone, remaining unanswered, before Miles pulled away with an anxious sigh.

If he could hazard a guess, Miles was still attempting in vain to contact Kate. It was reaching borderline harassment, as much as he hated to admit it, and it was getting late. Each additional call continued to ring out, and Miles became riddled with more and more anxiety.

New Miles shook his head, averting his eyes to prevent him from becoming more annoyed by Miles and his constant pathetic attempts to fix their marriage. He’d learn the hard way, soon enough. For now, there were more pressing matters to attend to. 

He turned his attention to the stack of local papers he’d picked up during his trip outside, flipping to the _for rent_ section. There were plenty of options for them to consider, so he’d have to start somewhere, and the sooner he could get this out of the way, the sooner they could have a place to call their own.

For now. 

The following morning, New Miles tidied himself up as best he could, swiped the car keys off the table, and headed towards the door. He was eager to not only get some space to himself, but find them a property as soon as possible. Living in a motel was not ideal, especially when they were in such close quarters.

“Wait-- where are you going?” Miles asked, the ‘ _without me_ ’ part of his question being unsaid.

New Miles took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could.

“Look, I know the market is hard to get into right now, and I want to make a good impression. I’m also better with words,” he said, as he tried his best to say _you make us both look bad_ without sounding like an asshole. “So please, for now-- just stay here. I won’t be long.”

Miles gave him a look, almost offended by his words. He would be lying if he said he cared-- but it was true. The way Miles presented himself was not an image that shouted _reliable_ and _trustworthy._

New Miles had made an effort to be presentable and charming when he visited each potential rental property. He knew that the better impression he made, the easier it would be to find and sign a lease, without wasting too much time. 

His plan worked rather well, in his opinion.

The third property he visited was _perfect_. It was a two bedroom unit, part of a small apartment block, but with plenty of space. As a bonus, not only was it mostly furnished, but it even had a lovely, quiet forest and lake surrounding it. 

Quiet and far away from the noisy suburbs and cities. Exactly what he needed.

* * *

It was surprising how exhausted Miles felt after moving in, considering how little they had on them. The property his clone had chosen was far better than he was expecting, so he couldn’t complain in that regard. They’d even managed to pick up some extra second-hand furniture from a few local places, so other than that-- it was fairly easy for them to settle in.

Miles collapsed on the couch, watching his clone follow suit. The two of them opened a respective beer, and he relished in just how much it calmed him after such a painfully long day. 

He eyed the man to his right, trying his best not to stare-- but sometimes, it was so weird when he thought about the fact that he was living with a literal clone of himself. 

“We’re going to have to figure out what to do with you,” Miles commented, eyeing him up and down.

His clone raised an eyebrow. “In what way?” 

“Well first off--” Miles paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but they needed to reach some kind of middle-ground. “We can’t share the same identity. With me being the _original_ … so to speak, I’ll stay as Miles. But, at least for my own sanity, we need a new name for you.”

New Miles grimaced, clearly not too happy with the idea, and Miles could understand, in a way-- if someone told him that _he_ was the clone, and that _he_ had to get a new identity, he’d feel much the same way. This was the best plan of action he could think of, going forward.

“What do you suggest?” His clone asked, taking another swig of his beer. He seemed to be too defeated to care at this point.

Miles scratched his head, not sure why he felt so nervous all of a sudden. “I’m terrible with names, so I’m the last person you should ask... But now that I think about it, this might work well for us, considering our looks-- we can get away with being twins at least.”

“Okay. Well, then… in terms of names, how about…” New Miles hummed thoughtfully, before his eyebrows shot up. “Wait-- what was it that mum always wanted to call me?”

“I think it was… Scott?” Miles stated, considering it for a moment, before he shrugged. At this point he really didn’t give a shit. “That sounds alright. I think it suits you. Seems easy enough to remember.”

“Works for me,” the clone replied, sitting up to place the now-empty bottle on the table. “And what was the _next_ item, then?”

“Right.” Miles stilled, nearly forgetting altogether about the other problems at hand. “Work would be the next factor.”

‘Scott’ nodded, giving him his full attention, but saying nothing further. He leaned back onto the couch, his expression blank and somewhat distant.

Miles would admit that he hated how much better his clone was at his job. 

But to be honest, he was getting sick of it anyway. He knew people liked his clone better than him. How could then not? He liked the job better, enjoyed it even-- and was producing far better results than Miles had managed in the past few years. 

Maybe they could keep up this charade for a bit longer.

“Do you… like my job?” Miles asked cautiously, both of his hands fidgeting around the beer bottle. Considering all the shit he’d already piled on his doppelganger, he’d be surprised if he didn’t put up at least a bit of a fight, at what he was going to suggest next.

Scott appeared to perk up a little at the question, much to Miles’ surprise. “Certainly,” he replied.

Miles shifted at the response, knowing what he had to say next, and continuing to struggle to get the words out. He hated asking for help, he hated admitting how shitty he was compared to this other version of him, and--

“ _Yes_ , I’m more than happy to continue working there,” Scott offered, and Miles could hear the snideness in his voice.

He felt like he was being baited, but he was too exhausted to care right now. 

Miles sighed. “I’m glad. I know you… do a better job than me, anyway.”

* * *

“I know I got upset and fucked up the pitch, so I’m thankful that we at least got it _accepted_ ,” Miles admitted, looking at a particularly interesting part of the floor. “But I’ve probably tarnished my reputation again.”

His clone chuckled, but Miles hadn’t finished what he needed to say. 

“I know that Hillston accepted the proposal, much to my surprise… but they were on to me,” his tone shifted as he spoke. He had to make sure he sounded serious. “They knew I was bullshitting. They knew it wasn’t _my_ proposal.”

Scott wasn’t sure what surprised him more-- the fact that it was that obvious that Miles had stolen his idea, or that Miles would actually _admit_ it to his face. Either way, they needed to keep the job, and continue to do work good enough to maintain their salary.

“Nothing I can’t fix,” he replied. “Once I get back to work on Monday I’m sure I’ll have everything sorted out.”

Scott was amazed at just how _civil_ their conversation had been so far. He knew how stubborn Miles could be, and was not expecting him to admit to his failings regarding work, let alone other aspects of their life.

“What about you, then?” Scott asked with a sly smile. If he was going to work their day job, he had to make sure Miles would be put to good use. “You’re not _completely_ useless.”

“Thanks…” Miles was taken aback, but had no energy to be offended. “I, uh-- I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

Scott hummed thoughtfully. “Well, it’ll be difficult for us to _both_ work jobs using the same name and identification. Plus, we won’t need two incomes, at least, not yet--”

He paused, thinking about his next words carefully. Even though he had his own name, he still had no physical proof that he existed-- records, birth certificates, credit cards-- _nothing._ Unless he could somehow come up with a fake past, they’d need to sort out some kind of arrangement in the meantime.

“I’m happy if you want to stay here, work on your personal projects or whatever it is you want to do. But…”

Miles’ eyes narrowed. “But… _what?_ ”

“My job will pay the bills and all that, so no drama there, but-- if you’re staying here, I’d appreciate it if you did the cooking, the cleaning, the grocery shopping… all of that,” Scott trailed off, noting the strange look he was receiving. “If that works for you.”

“Sounds awfully domestic,” Miles replied, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Someone’s got to do it. If I’m working eight hours a day, it only seems fair.”

Miles wanted to argue, but his stupid perfect clone was right. It was the least he could do if someone else was going to do his paid work for him.

“Okay,” he accepted with only mild hesitation. “I’ll do it.”

Scott smiled, getting to his feet with a clap of his hands. “I’ll start dinner then. Just for tonight.”

Cooking had, rather suddenly, become a hobby of his. He wasn’t sure how or why, but there was something rather exciting about coming up with new meals and finding the perfect wine to compliment it. The more he thought about it, the less he cared what was on the menu, especially when his stomach was protesting so loudly.

He was surprised to find Miles behind him when he turned around. After the initial flinch, he noted just how… _off_ Miles was acting. Even with the two of them so close to one another, he wasn’t making eye contact.

“You know, I never thanked you…” he started, voice oddly quiet. “For your help… with work.”

Scott blinked, unable to process that Miles was actually _thanking him_ for something. “It’s not really helping when it’s _my_ job,” he replied, continuing with his cooking venture. “But I appreciate it.”

Without another word, Miles turned and left, heading to the other side of the house, where the bedrooms were located. Scott would be lying if it didn’t pique his curiosity.

“Where are you going?” he asked, blurting out the question before he could stop himself.

Miles paused, turning back to him. This time he met his eyes, while his hands awkwardly tugged his long sleeves over his hands. “I’m heading to bed. Not feeling particularly hungry.”

Scott was becoming more and more concerned with how _flat_ Miles sounded, as if all his care and energy had left his body. Not that he was in any better of a place, mentally at least-- but he still couldn’t help but notice the change in behaviour.

Unless, somehow he’d _always_ been like that lately, and never noticed. No wonder he was doing so poorly at work and home-- he was rather miserable to be around.

As he was now left in the peace and quiet of his own company, Scott could focus on what he needed to get done tomorrow. It was going to be Sunday, and it was his last day to get himself settled in before returning to work.

Both of them were dealing with a very big change in their life-- so it was no surprise that their feelings were becoming difficult to deal with, especially around each other. But what surprised him most was that Miles was yet to realise there was only one bed in their apartment.

Scott was just thankful that they had a comfortable couch. Miles wasn’t exactly the _sharing_ type.

It would have to do for now.

* * *

Scott was always an organised person. At least, _now_ he was. He couldn’t say the same for Miles, who he noted from a glance was still wearing the same clothes that he’d been wearing yesterday.

Regardless, it didn’t matter to him now. He needed to focus. Tomorrow was Scott’s first day back at work-- as _Miles_ , no less-- and he was sure that there was going to be a huge mess to clean up. On top of that, he’d need to come up with a new pitch within the next few weeks, so he needed as little distraction as possible. 

His clothes were washed, ironed, and laid out neatly on the table, next to his work briefcase and packed lunch. He took a moment to stand back, nodding silently to himself at what he’d managed to accomplish with as little interaction with Miles as necessary.

Speaking of, Scott noted that Miles had spent _at least_ the last three hours sprawled on the couch, and still remained there. He was sure that he wouldn’t even get up even if the house was on fire. Scott could see that he was on his third-- wait, no-- his _fourth_ beer of the day, with no indication of stopping anytime soon.

Scott’s eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, noting it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. How had he already managed to drink that much alcohol at this time of the day? What the fuck was wrong with him _now?_

Miles was acting as if it was the first time they’d ever been dumped.

Scott was upset as well, no doubt about it-- he had the right to be. He didn’t think it was fair, how the two of them were kicked out without so much as a civil conversation, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He was a few years from forty, and he couldn’t waste his time lingering on the past, otherwise he’d never move on.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he _had_ a future, and if he did-- what it could possibly hold for him.

Miles had an identity. Scott couldn’t steal his name, let alone any other aspect of it-- excluding their little _agreement_ regarding work-- but it still left him with a big, empty _figurative_ hole in his chest.

Scott hated this-- this _feeling_. But it wasn’t like he had anyone he could talk about it to. He’d just need to swallow it down, bury it deep where no one would find it, and get on with his life.

Which led him back to Miles, who had far more of an opportunity for a life, for moving on-- and there he was, spilling beer and chips all over himself and the couch, when he could be out there actually _living_ a life he had.

Bastard.

Some things never change.

Miles had been obsessing over his phone ever since they left their home just a few days ago. Every few minutes, without fail, he’d turn the screen on, look at it as if he were a kicked puppy, and put it away again.

Scott was becoming sick of this behaviour. It wasn’t healthy, and he had a fairly good idea what might be causing it.

“What are you doing?” Scott asked as he walked over to his doppelganger.

Miles locked the screen of his phone, staring at him with distaste. “That’s none of your business.”

That solved it. Without a doubt. This was _definitely_ about Kate. There’s no other reason why he’d get so defensive. 

“She’s not going to pick up.”

“You don’t know that,” Miles replied through gritted teeth.

Scott pinched his brow in frustration. “Are you going to chase her _forever?_ ”

His lip quivered, as he took a shaking breath. “If I have to, I will.”

Scott groaned internally, wanting nothing more than to shake his head and call the other man an idiot. He could see the doubt in the way Miles spoke in his reply-- even _he_ wasn’t believing his own words anymore.

 _Something_ was keeping him holding on to Kate the way he was, and he was sure he knew why.

“What are you afraid of?” Scott pressed, narrowing his eyes. 

Miles was shutting him out, crossing his arms over his chest with no further response. Kate was still a sensitive subject, but it still needed to be addressed. The two of them were together for so long. Being single was something completely foreign to both of them at this point. 

“You’re afraid of being alone.”

Scott knew that was the reason, because that was his own biggest fear. Miles made a soft sound and turned away from him, mumbling under his breath.

“I know. I feel the same. But you need to move on,” Scott said. “Otherwise you _will_ be alone forever.”

The other man finally turned to him, looking almost defeated by his words. Sometimes the truth was a real bitch, but if it was what Miles’ needed to hear, then Scott would tell him until it sunk in.

If the two of them were going to move on, then the first thing they needed to do was get rid of what was holding them back.

“Give me the phone,” Scott requested, holding his hand out flat. 

He tensed, and shot him a glare. “No. I need it.”

“Miles. Give me the phone. It’ll do you good, I promise.”

Scott could tell that Miles was having an internal battle of wits. He was sure that he was still seen as a threat, as the reason for all the shit that had happened to Miles over the past few weeks. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but it wasn’t right either.

Miles let out a sigh of defeat, slowly reaching over to place the phone in Scott’s hand. He lingered there for a moment, with a look of contemplation, before finally pulling away. Scott smiled, counting that as a small win in his book.

With that done, he hopped to his feet, heading out the door. “Alright then. I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going?” Miles asked in alarm.

“Out,” he replied vaguely. “Just need to pick something up.”

* * *

Scott’s trip to the local department store was brief, but he managed to get everything he needed. It was part of his plan-- one of the things they needed to do, to begin their process of moving on.

Their old phone signified too much of their old life. He was glad it was gone now.

As he entered the apartment, he found Miles still hunched over on the couch, wearing the same dirty, oversized hoodie, with his feet up and his arms wrapped around his legs. He had a strange habit of making himself look as small as possible, for reasons unknown to him.

He was barely through the door before the other man started speaking to him, so quietly he nearly missed it.

“I’m sorry, about before…” Miles whispered, nearly a mumble. He was still looking away from the other, eyes focused in the distance. “I’m still trying to figure this situation out in my head.”

The tension between them had been ridiculously high these last few days, and Scott was glad that it appeared to be cooling off a little. Apologising wasn’t something that Miles was particularly fond of or good at. Scott wasn’t much better.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m just as lost and confused as you are right now, given this whole situation. But we’ll figure this out together.”

Miles perked up a little, stretching out when he turned to face the clone. “You better be right about this.”

He disregarded his comment, heading for the couch and taking a seat opposite Miles.

“Here…” Scott picked up one of the small boxes from the table, using it to poke Miles’ arm. “This one’s yours.”

The two of them booted up their new phones, going through the process of setting up their sim cards, and all the other tedious options that came with a new device. Buying these had certainly set them back a little on their savings, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t catch up on once he returned to work.

“And I’ll make sure to tell everyone at work that I-- _you_ \-- have a new number,” Scott clarified, eyes still on his phone as he scrolled through the list of apps. “So if you receive any work-related calls, just forward them to my number in the meantime.”

Miles nodded, tapping away on the other corner of the couch as Scott continued to do the same. He was starting to get hungry, only just now noting that it was hours past dinner time, and he’d been too preoccupied to notice. 

He was almost excited at the prospect of making dinner again, but didn’t get far from the couch before he was stopped in his tracks.

“Wait--” Miles latched onto his sleeve, keeping him in place. “There’s something else… I need to tell you.”

Scott blinked, unable to follow what his double was referring to. “Did I miss something?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Miles shook his head. “Not that. It’s about what happened on the way to the after-party,” he shuffled awkwardly back down on the couch. “Something… _weird_ happened, before I got there. I’m not sure if it means anything, but--”

“Tell me,” Scott interrupted, feeling worry and dread overcome him.

“Ever since I went to the spa, I’ve had this feeling like I’m being watched. I thought it was in my head, but then I saw it-- a station wagon. Following me,” Miles sighed, pinching his brow. “I saw them following me _again_ that night, so I got out to confront them--”

“Wait-- you _what?”_

Miles raised his hand in a silent ‘ _please shut up and let me talk’_ gesture, and gave him a look. Scott promptly closed his mouth.

“I was in a shitty enough mood as is, so I wasn’t particularly _nice_ to these people. But as soon as I got to the car, they drove off… and tore the fucking door off my car in the process.”

“So _that’s_ what happened. Huh,” Scott frowned, wondering what it could all mean. “Still, that was a reckless thing to do.”

He couldn’t help the feeling of dread forming in his chest at the thought. Was someone after them? Was someone after Miles? 

Unless… No-- there was no way they knew about him being a clone. _Right?_

“Hey,” Miles clicked a finger in front of his face. “Your mind left you for a second there. I’m sure it’s nothing. I could just be paranoid for all I know.”

Scott couldn’t help but feel like it was a bad omen. 

“I hope you’re right.”

* * *

Ever since Scott had come into existence-- which was only a few weeks ago, when he thought about it-- he’d done nothing but help Miles in every single aspect of his life. He’d managed to turn his personal and work life around completely, before he came in and ruined everything for the both of them. He’d barely received any recognition for what he’d done, and at this point, he didn’t want to do anything that people will assume was Miles’ doing.

Scott hadn’t realised how deep in thought he was, not even hearing the door to his office open. He startled when he suddenly came face to face with his boss, who he hadn’t had a chance to talk to since Miles had presented their pitch.

“Miles,” Pool greeted, setting down a stack of papers on his desk. The look in her eyes told Scott that she had something else on her mind. “Listen, the work you’ve done on the Hillston pitch has been fantastic. If you need to…” she trailed off, looking away briefly. “If you need some time off to sort out your affairs, just let me know.”

Right. He’d nearly forgotten about the show Miles had put on in front of Kate _and_ all their colleagues. At this point there was no way he was going to mention the fact that they were on their way to get a divorce, on top of that drama.

But still, maybe some time off would do both of them some good. Give them more time to figure out what they were going to make of their future. 

“I appreciate the offer,” Scott replied with a brief smile. “I’ll think about it.”

Pool nodded in silent acknowledgement before heading out the door, leaving Scott once again with his own thoughts, which wasn’t a very good situation for him right now. Other than dealing with Miles, and the whole _being a clone of someone else_ thing, Scott had two main problems--

First, he was now single, rather quickly and unexpectedly. He’d become so used to married life, that the years had passed him so quickly, and he’d never in his life imagined being single, let alone searching for someone to be with. As far as Scott was concerned, those days were long past him. But here he was, alone, and unsure what to do with himself.

Which led him to the second problem-- which was also far more difficult for him to deal with or even understand. Scott was sure that it was part of whatever they did to him at the spa, but ever since he’d woken up from the treatment, or when he was created, or whatever the fuck process led to his existence-- he was _unbelieveably_ horny. 

All the time.

Even at this current moment, sitting at his work desk, and trying his best to focus on his work… his mind and body were thinking of _other things_ . All it did was make him shift uncomfortably in his seat, and try his best to think about _anything_ to kill the mood.

As if on command, his prayers were answered. A figure standing in the door to his office made his presence known in the most unpleasant of ways.

“And I thought _one_ of you was enough,” Dan snidely commented, looking him up and down. “No wonder you’ve never mentioned your brother before.”

Scott wasn’t sure what irritated him more-- the fact that Dan had become even _more_ of an asshole since he was cloned, or that he was insulting Miles, and in turn, himself. Ironic that Dan was the one to recommend the spa treatment in the first place, raving about it’s results, yet he was getting pissed off at how well it worked for Scott.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Scott replied, making no attempt to mask the hint of anger in his voice. 

He’d had enough of this shit. The only thing Dan was good for was making erections disappear in record time. He was thankful for that-- otherwise Dan was only good for being a waste of space.

It wasn’t like Dan even contributed _anything_ to this company except for questionable remarks and complaints to HR. Scott was surprised that he was still as irritating and as spiteful as he’d ever been, even with his trips to the ‘spa’. Considering just how much Scott had changed, and especially since seeing it face to face-- literally-- it just didn’t make sense.

Unless the results varied. Either that, or Dan was a lost cause. Scott decided to go with the latter. 

“ _That_ bad, huh?” Dan smirked, feigning interest. “I’ll leave you to deal with your family drama, then.”

Thank god that was over, whatever that was about.

How could someone be that oblivious to how much they were _clearly_ unwanted? Scott was just glad he was gone _for now_ , no doubt he’d get back into the habit of being an unbearable piece of shit at the next opportunity that showed itself. 

Now, the biggest issue was Scott-- by himself once again, with his wandering thoughts. This whole situation with Miles-- it had all happened so fast, he was still so unsure about what to do next. They knew their living arrangement wouldn’t last forever. At some point they were going to be two independent people, with their own separate lives. But how would they get there from where they were now?

Even with his new name, who was he? Who was _Scott_ ? What was his life? What was he going to do next, trapped in that apartment with the _real_ Miles? 

Regardless of his dwindling chirpy nature and general outlook on life, he just didn’t know how to feel anymore. What did he have to look forward to? He’d lost his house, his wife, his future-- his entire life. Now it was just him, and another version of himself. Both of them, stuck under the same roof, sharing a life.

It was a constant reminder of how much he despised himself, except he had to look at it every single day.

He couldn’t handle this reality. He wished he’d just wake up already from this dream before he went insane. He had no purpose anymore. Now his whole life revolved around living with himself.

This would have turned out for the best if Miles had just _stayed_ dead. Considering that wasn’t how it turned out, it left Scott with two possible options. Either he killed Miles, or himself. Scott paused at the mere thought, guilt hanging over his conscience. Both options made his skin crawl, and his stomach churn at the thought. He shook his head, cursing under his breath.

This whole situation was fucked. There had to be a way to work this out. If not, Scott needed another option. A way out. An alternative. 

There was only one that he could see at this point in time. It was better than nothing. A contingency plan, for when he finds himself left with no other choice.

Scott would need to make a stop on the way home, so that he’d be prepared, in case it ever got to that point. 

* * *

Scott had been sitting in the parking lot outside his apartment block for the last half an hour. His mind wasn’t in the right place to be alone right now, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he could handle being around Miles. Perhaps it was because he saw all the things he hated most in the face of his double, but he was certain it was because he couldn’t handle the reality that Miles _was_ him, somewhere, under the unkempt exterior. 

He shifted in the front seat of the car, leaning on the door and rubbing his eyes. It had been a long day. He hadn’t worked nearly as much as he should have, finding it almost _impossible_ to do so in his current state of mind. It was as if he couldn’t get a single moment of silence, with so many thoughts and doubts clouding his mind, there was no way he could think straight.

Which led Scott to look down at the box sitting precariously in his lap. A solution. A way out of his predicament.

He’d made a stop on his way home from work, which he still hadn’t decided if that was a good idea or not. The amount of times he’d eyed the merchandise, only to mentally talk himself out of it, and then come straight back to the check-out-- he was amazed he’d gone through with the purchase in the end.

Scott lifted the lid of the box, a small pocket-sized pistol shined brightly from within.

He wondered… what would happen if he left it, loaded, in plain site? What would Miles think? Scott was sure Miles wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, given the opportunity. That could be an alternative, because Scott wasn’t sure he could put himself out of his own misery.

The box of bullets sat beside him, still packed and unused. There was no way he’d load the gun, for now at least. He’d used a gun before, so he wasn’t a complete novice when it came to firearms. But if he’d learned anything from using them in the past, it would be safer to keep it unloaded for now.

Scott sighed, turning his gaze to the peaceful view outside. 

This feeling of emptiness and loneliness was killing him. What was worse was that his mere existence was not only ruining his life, but Miles’ life as well. He wanted to live-- he didn’t want to kill himself. But sometimes he couldn’t think of any other way out. He wanted Miles to have the life that Scott stole from him. 

Maybe that’s his purpose. It was the only thing in his control right now. Worse comes to worse, at least he’s got something for the pain.

There was no stopping the inevitable. He’d have to go inside sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now. 

Scott had barely closed the door before he saw Miles jump up off the couch, tripping over his own feet briefly, and materialising next to him within seconds. 

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked, sounding more like an accusation than a question.

“What are you talking about?” Scott replied, clearly irritated. He could smell the alcohol on his breath, to no surprise. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight. “Didn’t realise I had a _curfew_.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “It’s nearly midnight.”

Scott blinked, taking a moment to check the clock. Miles was right. Had he really been so out of it that he’d missed several hours of the day? That didn’t seem right. For a moment, he thought Miles might actually be _worried_ about him.

“My bad,” he shrugged, throwing his bag on the table, and moving to the kitchen. “Got caught up at work, is all.”

Scott didn’t need to turn around to know that Miles was rolling his eyes. He stayed where he was, feet planted in front of the sink, as he poured himself another glass of water. Miles was not someone he could deal with right this second, so perhaps if he stayed here and ignored him, he’d get a hint and just _fuck off_ for the next eight hours. At least then he’d be able to get some rest.

The sound of rustling behind him didn’t alarm him until it was too late.

“What the fuck…”

Scott nearly felt dizzy from how quickly he spun around. The contents of his work bag were scattered across the floor, with Miles standing in the middle of it, gun cocked in one hand. 

His mind went blank.

“Were you gonna use this to kill me?” Miles accused, his sudden, overwhelming emotions making it difficult for him to speak coherently. “What was your plan, huh? Trying to _replace_ me? Get back together with Kate!?”

Fuck. He’d gone off the deep end. This was escalating far quicker than he could process.

“Miles--”

“No! I’m not going to stand here and let you stay under the same roof as me-- if it’s just your plan to kill me!”

Scott raised his hands carefully in front of him. “You’re drunk Miles. Calm down--”

“I will not calm down!” Miles yelled.

He was waving the gun around, and Scott was glad in this moment that its chamber was empty. The last thing he needed right now was Miles hurting himself-- more so than he was already, considering his drinking habits. 

Why couldn’t Miles just mind his own fucking business in the first place? Then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

Scott was saddened by the accusations Miles was spouting in his direction. His continued effort to avoid all blame and entertain the delusion of getting his old life back was painful to watch. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to try to calm himself.

“She’s not your wife anymore, _or_ mine. You know that. You can’t blame _me_ for that, and--” he pointed to the gun, still trembling in Miles’ hand. “That’s _not_ for you.”

“Bullshit! I will not listen to you-- I know you’ve wanted to kill me since we met--” 

Even though his words were vile and full of anger, Scott could see just how upset Miles was behind the facade. His eyes were red, and he was sure that he was on the verge of tears. It wouldn’t surprise Scott if Miles turned out to be just as depressed as he was. How could he not be? The last few weeks had been the shittiest of their collective life.

But after all they’d been through, Miles still thought he wanted to kill him.

Typical. 

“I knew this was a bad idea!” Miles yelled to the floor, his free hand running through his hair. ”I _knew_ I should have killed you sooner--”

The words stung, but Scott could see that Miles was a wreck, and in the middle of a break down-- escalating by the second. He tried his best not to hold it against him. 

Two could play at that game.

Scott closed the distance between them, wrapping a hand tightly around Miles’ wrist-- specifically, the one waving the gun around. He flinched, pulling back on instinct. As soon as they made eye contact, Miles froze, mouth open but words absent. Scott moved Miles’ hand to point the gun at his chest.

He’d had enough. If this was how life was going to be, then this was the end of the line.

“If you want to so badly--” Scott started, gritting his teeth to stop the emotional pain that was threatening to overtake him. “Why don’t you just hurry up and _end me_ already?”

He wanted to scream. He wanted to beg. His thoughts were clouded with so much _noise_. He couldn’t handle it anymore. He needed an escape.

_Do it! End this! Now!_

Scott was offering his life. This was Miles’ chance to be rid of him; he could kill Scott, his clone, the reason for everything wrong in his life-- finally be free from him, and get on with his own life in the process. 

The clone watched as time slowed to a crawl. Miles was shaking, his finger by the trigger, gasping through laboured breaths.

“Now’s your chance, Miles,” Scott stated, standing his ground. “Shoot me.”

He closed his eyes, and for the first time that evening, he wished the gun was loaded.

* * *

Miles could barely breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t stop shaking, trying to comprehend what his clone had just said to him. Emotions were overwhelming him, and he knew just how fucked up this was-- he was holding a gun, he was threatening to kill someone-- he was being _begged_ to but an end to someone else--

It was all too much.

He wanted to speak, finding only a pained sound emerging from him, as if he was a dying animal. He gun dropped from his grasp, tears flowing freely down his face, as he tried in vain to stop them. 

Miles stumbled backwards, wiping the dampness from his cheeks with the back of his sleeves. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill someone, even if it was a clone of himself-- who hadn’t even done anything wrong other than being an inconvenience.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Scott asked with a hint of anger. 

Miles startled at his tone. “Shut up,” he mumbled, breath hitching. 

It was so easy to _think_ about killing someone, but to actually go through with it was a whole other reality that Miles wasn’t prepared for. When his vision cleared, he looked back up to find his clone staring at him with absolute fury. 

“Can’t you do _anything_ right, you fucking moron?” Scott spat, eyes burning with anger 

Miles flinched from the sudden shift in demeanor. His clone looked even more furious than he did. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t how this was going to go. _He_ was the one who was supposed to be angry.

The two of them remained staring at one another for what felt like an eternity. It was a standoff. Each one waited for the other to act, to speak, to do _something_. He wasn’t sure what to do at this point, but the anger inside of him kept threatening to break loose.

“You ruined my life,” Miles said, hands balling into fists by his sides.

Scott laughed at him. “ _You_ ruined your life,” he clarified just as harshly. 

That was it. He’d had enough. Miles had reached his limit. He couldn’t do this anymore. If a fight was what he wanted, then that was what he was going to get.

“I hate you!”

“I _am_ you!”

Miles ran directly at him with a shout, tackling the other-- the two of them toppled over, falling on the carpet beneath them. He landed on top of his clone, but Scott was quicker-- kicking him off and practically flipping him over his head. Miles got to his feet as fast as he could, a brief wave of disorientation nearly making him trip.

He could see Scott approaching him, taking no time to think, swinging a right hook in the direction of the other man’s face. The clone ducked, causing Miles to follow through too quickly and lose his balance. 

He felt Scott pick him up by the back of his shirt, throwing him further down the hallway. He landed back on the floor with a grunt, struggling to turn around so he could see his assailant. As the other man approached him once more, he saw an opening. 

Miles sweeped his legs around, knocking Scott over within seconds. He took the opportunity to scramble to his knees, hands latching on to the clone’s shirt as he shifted his weight onto the other, pinning him. He didn’t waste any time holding him in place, right hand closed and snapping across Scott’s face-- again, and again, and again--

Even though Miles had the upper hand, something wasn’t right.

He paused, staring down at the man beneath him, breathing heavily. His clone had barely put up a fight since they started. At no point had he swung a fist back, or even tried to hurt Miles in any way. He’d only just realised that now, and yet he couldn’t make any sense of it.

The fuck was happening?

“Why won’t you fight back? Why are you letting me win?” Miles asked in disbelief, bruised fist hovering in the air.

What was the point of this-- why did he want to fight, if it was going to end up completely one-sided?

The clone simply stared at him with cold, dead eyes, his questions remaining unanswered.

“You... keep doing this. You keep riling me up,” Miles stated through heavy breaths, and then it all started to make sense. “You think you _deserve_ this.”

Scott looked at him with an expressionless face, before averting his eyes. His nose was bleeding, bruises beginning to form around his eye and cheek. Miles wasn’t sure what to say, thinking it best to get up-- but he didn’t have a chance to escape.

“You’re right,” Scott replied, hands coming up to grasp onto Miles’ wrists, and direct them to his throat. The clone held them firmly, immobilising them both. “Are you gonna keep me waiting, or just do it already?”

Both sets of hands were now circled around Scott’s neck, as he arched back for a better angle. Miles felt the force of his grip closing around the other man’s windpipe, beyond his control-- his mind fighting to choose whether or not he wanted this.

“You want me out of your life? Then _do it_.”

Miles was frozen on the spot, mouth opening and closing without a sound.

“Kill me,” Scott requested, voice breaking. His breathing was beginning to become laboured from the lack of oxygen. “ _Do it_.”

Death, and being in control of such a fate, frightened Miles; but on the other hand-- this could work out well for him. He could, right now, get rid of the reason for his life being as shit as it was. All his clone did was remind him of everything he hated about himself, of everything he could be, but wasn’t--

So why...

Why did he _care_ about him?

“Get rid of me and finally be alone. Just like you’ve always wanted.”

No. No… this isn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t the life he wanted, and this wasn’t the future he wanted.

He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Miles just wanted to be _loved._

Tears ran down his cheeks again as he made a pathetic cry. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be a murderer. He didn’t want to be left alone in this world, especially from the only person who would even be capable of understanding him.

He pulled himself back, hands latching onto the front of Scott’s shirt in frustration.

“I... don’t wanna kill you,” Miles admitted. 

He watched as his tears fell onto the other’s shirt, and couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. Miles was sure he’d get mad again, or kick him off, or pick another fight--

Instead, he felt soft hands as they reached for either side of his face, eyes going wide at the sudden touch.

Scott was staring at him with a small, sad smile. “I don’t wanna kill you either,” he whispered. “I just... wanted your life. If I can’t be myself… then I don’t know what to do.”

It wasn’t much, but Miles felt it almost impossible to be mad at him anymore. It was never his fault. He couldn’t lay blame on others anymore. He nodded at Scott’s words, trying to get a hold of his breathing and sniffling before he made a complete mess of himself.

“I know. I wanted it too,” he replied, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I’ve only made this worse.”

Miles no longer had control of himself, only able to roll off his clone and collapse on the floor next to him. He couldn’t stop himself from curling up, arms hugging around his knees, wanting to appear as small as he felt. All these emotions and conflicting feelings were making his head hurt, and he felt exhausted from the endless conflict.

“Hey, I’m sorry too,” Scott replied, rolling onto his side with a soft smile. “I’m... sorry I asked you to kill me.”

A gentle hand on Miles’ shoulder made him look up, seeing his own face stare back at him. This time, however, all anger had dissipated.

“It’s just you and me now,” the clone added. “We’ll make this work.”

Miles felt his lip quiver. He had no idea when he’d become so emotional, or why he suddenly felt like crying and screaming until the pain and anguish in his heart left him. But he felt some of it lift at Scott’s words, but he wasn’t sure what it meant.

He was so _tired_ . Not just from the lack of sleep, and the exhaustion that came with that-- but it was all the _thinking._ His mind was so cooped up in a million different narratives that he never found any peace and quiet.

Miles made a small sound of surprise as arms moved around him, bringing him close to the other in a comforting embrace. He unfurled, melting into the warmth as his eyes fluttered closed. This was nice. As strange as it was… he could get used to this.

He preferred this to the fighting. He hoped they could come to a truce. He couldn’t deal with the anger and violence anymore.

“I never meant to take your life away from you,” Scott whispered into his neck. “I didn’t mean to get so upset. It won’t happen again.”

* * *

Scott meant every word he said.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been so selfish as to try to make someone else take his life, especially someone as unstable as Miles. He needed to focus less on the past, and make a future for himself. Not for his sake, but for Miles as well. They both deserved a chance at a happy life, whether or not Scott was part of it.

He could hear Miles’ soft breathing beside him, but otherwise, he didn’t stir or reply to his words. Scott panicked briefly, wondering if he’d heard anything he’d said-- or worse-- if he was still upset.

“Miles?” He asked cautiously. “You okay?”

As Scott pulled back slightly, he noticed that Miles had managed to fall asleep at some point during the last few minutes. He knew he was out of shape, but… their fight must have done a real number on him. Scott felt much the same if he was honest with himself, both the physical and mental confrontation to be surprisingly exhausting.

The two of them were still lying awkwardly on the living room carpet, and if it wasn’t quite so hard and uncomfortable, Scott would have preferred to stay there. It was rather relaxing, being in someone else’s arms-- even if that person happened to be a copy of himself. He could admit that he didn’t mind… _whatever this was--_ this _understanding_ that he felt he’d now reached with Miles. It was better than living on the edge of constant conflict.

He’d give them a few more minutes, then carry Miles to his bedroom. But for now, he needed just a bit more of this. 

Scott hoped that this would change their relationship for the better. A friend is what they both needed right now. They’d have to work together to get through this.

As ironic as it sounded, perhaps the two of them weren’t quite so different after all.


	2. I want you

Dan froze on the spot as soon as Pool entered his office, her expression and demeanor as sour and rigid as usual. It was intimidating in a way, especially when he found himself feeling rather short, sitting in his desk chair, looking up at her.

He had to wait and hope that it wasn’t bad news.

“What can I do for you on this fine afternoon?” Dan asked with a cocky grin, trying his best attempt to be _smooth._

Even though he’d consider himself to be a bit of a lady-killer by nature, it didn’t stop him from being terrified of his boss every time she was close enough to be in his personal space.

Pool stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to him with a look of mild distaste, as if his presence was nothing more than a burden.

Which, he was soon to learn, was _exactly_ what he was.

“You’re fired,” she stated, throwing some paperwork on his desk. “There’s your severance package. I’m sure you’ll find it agreeable.”

Dan’s smile fell instantly as he did a double-take. His eyes went wide, mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to remember how words were formed.

“But… but _why_?” Dan eventually replied, hastily getting to his feet in an attempt to follow her.

Pool raised a hand on her way to the door, giving him a stern look.

“Miles has managed to do more in the last month than you have in the past three years.” She stared down at him, as if he was something pitiful. “You’re a waste of money _and_ time. I expect you out by the end of the day.”

Dan sputtered in reply, but couldn’t form any cohesive comeback that would be worth it.

The next thing he knew, the entire contents of his office were staring at him from the confines of a single, cardboard box. They shared the same fate-- disposable, and soon to be forgotten.

Dan still couldn’t wrap his head around it. How did this situation manage to flip practically _overnight_ ? Miles had been on a downward spiral for _years_ , always quiet during their meetings and never suggesting even the _slightest_ of coherent ideas. Then out of nowhere, he was like a completely different person.

Within a single meeting he’d won over their boss and made an absolute killing. It just didn’t make any sense. What changed?

It had been a week since the pitch had gone through. Miles was acting weird during the whole event, that much Dan was sure of. Something had changed-- he’d practically become an entirely different person. Someone he didn’t recognise, but who still looked exactly like Miles.

Unless… could it be? No-- there was _no way_ Miles could have swapped places with his twin brother. He’d require _years_ worth of knowledge to be able to pull that off.

Either way, he was sure that son-of-a-bitch Miles was to blame for this, which in turn gave Dan a most _brilliant_ idea. He couldn’t help the small chuckle escape from him as he became lost in his thoughts.

It was time to dig up some dirt on his old friend.

* * *

Things had gone back to normal, for the most part-- if this could even be _called_ ‘normal’.

The two of them hadn’t spoken about their fight since it happened, and Scott was okay with that. There wasn’t much else to discuss. But the one thing Scott knew for sure, was that the two of them needed to move on from their past, and start a new life for themselves.

They only had each other at this point.

Scott had noticed that Miles seemed rather… _on-edge_ lately. More so than usual. He couldn’t tell if it was from boredom, or perhaps a bit of cabin fever from being cooped up in their apartment all day. Scott had never seen himself act in such a peculiar way before, so even he couldn’t tell what was happening.

But he had an idea. Something that might help.

Scott managed to leave the office a little earlier than usual, feeling himself desperate to get out and experience some fresh air while he still could. He never had much time to himself these days, so he savoured it when the opportunity arose. 

Which led him back to his plan.

Miles loved writing, and in turn, so did Scott. It was the whole reason for the script-- a little private hobby they enjoyed on the side, with the idea of turning it into something grand one day. Which was the entire reason for his stop on the way home-- it would do them _both_ some good to get back into writing, not only as a distraction, but it being something to focus on other than drinking and self-loathing.

Sometimes it was the little things that made a big difference. Scott was hoping this could do that for Miles. With his secret purchase completed, he headed straight back to their apartment, being greeted by a rather tired, yet curious roommate.

“I thought we could both use a new laptop,” he said, placing one on the table, and keeping the other in his hands. “This one’s yours.”

“This is rather sudden,” he replied, perplexed.

“Here,” Scott tried and failed to suppress a smile. “Check this out.”

He opened the computer, and after a few clicks, he managed to pull up the file he was looking for. It was a large document, nearly a hundred pages long, but rather familiar. After a moment, he passed the laptop to Miles, waiting patiently beside him.

“Is this…” Miles’ eyes lit up in awe, finding his entire unfinished script intact before him. “How did you--”

“Some of us are smart enough to keep digital back-ups,” Scott replied with a smug grin.

“But…” he skimmed the document quickly, eyes flickering. “This is the original. Before--”

He had been hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, but Scott needed to own up to his own failings.

“Yes, I know I was an asshole for changing it behind your back,” he interrupted sheepishly. “It was a spur of the moment, but there’s no way I’d _delete_ it.”

“I… probably had that coming, after the way I treated you,” Miles trailed off, closing the lid of the laptop, and placing it on the coffee table.

For a moment, Scott thought he might have made him upset, which was the exact opposite of what he was trying to do. When Miles turned to him, he looked rather distant and sad, further alarming him. Before he could apologise, he nearly had the wind knocked out of him as he was crushed in a sudden embrace.

“Thanks…” Miles mumbled into his shoulder. “I’d practically given up on it.”

Scott was stunned, arms awkwardly floating by his sides as he comprehended the situation.

“No problem,” he replied, returning the hug, and remaining there for another few moments.

Miles pulled back, but his hold remained on Scott’s shoulders. He was grinning from ear to ear now, to the point where Scott barely recognised him. He’d never seen Miles with such an expression before. The look on his face-- the sheer and utter joy, and that genuine smile--

Scott wasn’t sure what just happened, but he could swear his heart fluttered _just a tiny bit_.

It hit him out of nowhere, causing him to suck in a sudden breath in surprise. That was… weird. Probably just some indigestion or something. Yeah… that would be right.

Nothing to worry about. Nothing to think about.

Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

Miles had managed to spend the entirety of the weekend cooped up at the end of the couch, legs tucked to the side, laptop mere inches from his face. He’d been addicted to writing since he’d given it to him, and at first he thought he’d be sick of it by now. 

It was surprising. But it was nice, relaxing even. Scott’s interest in such a hobby had dissipated, and he often wondered what else he could pick up to do in his spare time. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t think of anything. He’d been so busy with work, and the stress of figuring out his life, and future, to have time left over for anything else.

Miles appeared happy, though. That’s what counted.

Scott had taken a seat on the other end of the couch, unwinding with a small glass of wine for the evening. He flicked on the television, and it appeared that Miles hadn’t even noticed he was there. 

“How’s it coming along?” he asked, taking a sip of wine. “The story, I mean.”

“Oh, uh--” Miles looked up, eyes darting to Scott’s. He appeared a little flustered, but he knew that he could be a bit self-conscious and defensive when it came to his creative hobbies. “It’s getting there. Still needs a lot of work…”

Scott couldn’t help but smile. This was the only thing that Miles had that made him cheery. Not only that, but their writing styles were surprisingly different. He could remember how the story was originally set out, but now he was curious to see where Miles had decided to take it, especially after their sudden change in lifestyle.

“I look forward to reading it.”

“It’s not finished!” Miles replied rather hastily, practically cradling the laptop in his arms. “I, uh--”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, before he laughed at the unexpected reaction. “Chill, I know. I won’t interfere,” he added, relaxing further into the couch. “You know that. Gotta keep it a surprise.”

Miles calmed down by his words, looking a little embarrassed. After a moment, he shut the device, laying it on the coffee table as he headed to the kitchen. Scott’s eyes followed him with curiosity, as he retrieved another beer from the fridge, before returning to his usual spot. He’d been drinking less the last few nights, which was a good sign in Scott’s opinion, but it still worried him sometimes.

The two of them had been silent in discussing their marriage, and the next steps towards this new chapter of their life-- in fact, neither of them had even brought Kate up, practically acting as if she didn’t exist.

As much as Scott hated to admit it, they needed to talk about her-- about everything that happened-- and help devise a plan to suit both of them. They’d rented a place, that was the first step.

He wanted to see Miles happy. He wanted to see him smile again, like he had been last night. It was like a breath of fresh air, and it gave him hope that Miles wasn’t as much of a lost cause as he’d first assumed.

They’d been silent long enough.

“Okay, we need to talk about our marriage,” Scott started, sitting upright and turning to Miles. “To Kate, I mean.”

Miles flinched in response, returning his gaze with a shocked expression. “What about her?”

Scott let out a calm breath, knowing this was going to be something hard for both of them.

“We need to move on. Sign the divorce papers, get ourselves back out there. You know, find someone else, or at least, meet new people.”

“But…” Miles looked saddened and unconvinced, shying away. “I don’t think I can. The _finding someone else_ part, I mean. At least… not yet.”

He could practically hear Miles’ internal monologue, noting the look on his face. He was falling deeper into the belief that no one would want him. It was exactly how Scott felt at times. The two of them had been married for so long, they’d become far too comfortable with the way their life was before.

“Well, we don’t _have_ to find someone else. But the _moving on_ part is important, and hey, sometimes being around new people can help.” Scott shrugged, attempting to sound optimistic. “But there’s no hurry.”

A silence falls over them, and Miles stares at the floor, with an expression of concern. Scott knew this conversation gave them both a lot to think about and consider, and the last thing he wanted was for Miles to become even more unsure of himself. 

“It’s hard to deal with a broken heart. It’s even harder to move on from it, considering what a big part of our life our marriage was,” he continued, placing his hands in his lap. “It won’t be easy, and it won’t be quick. But we need to start somewhere. Just think about it, yeah?”

Miles grimaced, but didn’t reply. There was nothing more to be said, and Scott felt that he was overstaying his welcome. He needed to get out for a little while-- some fresh air would help him clear his mind. He walked to the kitchen, placing his now empty glass on the table, and considered what they’d discussed. He didn’t want to end things here. He wanted to lighten the mood a little.

“Would you prefer this,” Scott gestured around them, arms outstretched. “Or an alternate reality where instead of kicking us out, she remained married to _both_ of us?”

Miles scoffed, rolling his eyes. “ _Of course not_ , I would have preferred--” He stopped himself, mouth shutting with an audible click.

Scott knew he was referring to him, _the clone_ , the centre of his failed marriage. “Go on, say it. I know you want to,” he insisted.

“No,” Miles replied. “Forget it. It’ll never be like it used to be, so what's the point. It’s like you said… it’s time to move on.”

He was surprised at how honest Miles was being. He was expecting far more pushback and denial. This was a good sign, at least.

“Miles... I didn’t mean to fuck up everything for you. Or me, for that matter.”

“You didn’t. It’s not your fault. I get it. We’d... been falling downhill for a while now.”

Scott hesitated, but had no idea what to say in return. Miles was dealing with their new life better than he’d first assumed.

“Can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time,” Miles muttered to himself, falling to his side on the couch.

“Happens to the best of us. We... have a habit of getting comfortable. Change can become rather terrifying. Before you know it, you’ve been doing the same thing for ten years and not even noticed.”

“That’s... kind of terrifying,” he replied, looking up. “But explain one thing to me then.”

Scott raised an eyebrow, giving the other his full attention. 

“If we really _are_ the same person, then how come I'm having a much harder time dealing with this whole situation, than you are?” Miles asked, staring intently.

The clone sighed, pinching his brow. “Miles... I _am_ having a hard time. But I’m different-- mentally, emotionally... Of course I’m sad. _Of course_ I’m upset. But it is what it is. I can’t spend all my time and energy fighting something that’s already happened,” he paused, taking a breath. “We got dumped, I’ve moved on. Or trying to, at least.”

“Do you really think that seeing someone new would help?”

“I don’t expect someone else to fix you, or me. Another person is not the answer to finding happiness. But it can help,” Scott offered a reassuring smile. “I’m tired of being sad, Miles. I want to be happy. And so do you.”

“I... just need more time,” Miles admitted, averting his eyes.

Scott wasn’t sure _why_ , but he had a sudden urge to embrace him, pull him close and tell him it was going to be okay-- that the two of them were going to make it, that they’d be there for one another. This thought concerned him, having no idea when he’d become so comfortable around Miles. His feelings had become so skewed since their fight, he couldn’t quite pinpoint how he felt about the other. 

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be here. We’ve been independent before. We can do it again,” he offered. “Together.”

* * *

Scott had found himself in the middle of an awkward situation. 

He seemed to have made it a habit at this point, much to his dismay. He’d spent the whole day thinking about how he was going to apologise to Miles about how he’d spoken to him yesterday, about how forward and insistent he’d been about moving on, even though Miles was _clearly_ not ready.

But this… _this_ was something else _entirely_.

When he’d returned home, he found the apartment empty-- or so he’d first assumed. He’d called out to Miles, after not finding him in the lounge room, only to be responded to by nothing but silence. It was rather odd, considering Miles rarely went out alone. 

But Scott didn’t mind, in fact-- this could have been a nice opportunity for some time to himself. Considering how long he’d already spent sleeping on the couch, maybe he could use the opportunity for a nice, comfortable nap on the bed. He’d be up before Miles even noticed. 

When he opened the bedroom door, however, what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks, voice dying in his throat.

Miles was lying on his side on the bed, in deep concentration-- shirt hiked up, briefs halfway down his thighs. He was biting his lip, moaning softly into the pillow, toes curling. The quiet sounds of pornography could be heard blasting through his headphones, as he gripped onto his phone with one hand, while the other--

Scott moved so fast, he might as well have invented light speed travel. His back was flat against the hallway wall, eyes wide in shock. The door was still half-way open, but he was completely out of viewing range now, and finally had the time to process what he’d just managed to walk into.

His arms were shaking, his breathing was heavy, and he--

He blinked, looking down at himself.

_He was hard._

What the absolute _fuck_ was wrong with him?

Ever since he was cloned, he’d experienced difficulty dealing with his… needs. He could blame this feeling on that. Practically _anything_ would turn him on, and at some point, he’d need to hide out in the bathroom two or three times a day just to deal with it, even at work. 

It was becoming unbearable and even more difficult to manage. It didn’t matter where he was, or what he was doing-- the sudden need would hit him like a freight train, and he’d be disappearing just as quickly to the closest form of privacy he could find.

What he just saw was _not_ helping his situation in the slightest. 

Scott quickly ducked into the bathroom, shutting the door and snipping the lock. His legs threatened to give out, and he had no idea why he was freaking out as much as he was. They were both adults. They were both _lonely_ adults. It just… thinking about the concept was one thing, walking in on it was an entirely new reality.

It had caught him off guard. He had no idea he actually looked like that when he jerked off.

Shit. 

Something was definitely not right. Fuck. He needed to get off. He was unreasonably horny right now. 

A cold shower. That’s all he needed. Nothing would kill his mood more than freezing cold water. He was _not_ going to think about Miles. He was not going to _touch himself_ and think about Miles.

There was something seriously wrong with him. On the bright side, he was incredibly thankful that he’d been out of eyeshot. That could have been one hell of an awkward situation if Miles had seen him.

After cleaning himself up, both mentally _and_ physically, he wrapped himself in a towel, and took another brief look at himself in the mirror. He had to make sure he was acting as if nothing happened. 

As soon as Scott emerged from the bathroom, Miles poked his head outside the door at the same time, nearly scaring him half to death.

“Didn’t hear you get home,” Miles said. “I was asleep,” he added rather quickly.

Scott shrugged nonchalantly, pretending his best that absolutely _nothing_ was wrong, and _everything_ was as normal as it ever was. He still couldn’t help but notice how flushed he looked.

“I assumed you’d gone out,” Scott replied, gaze moving to the room behind Miles. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No-- nothing like that. I probably sleep too much anyway.”

Scott tried his best to look at him in the eyes, still feeling shame. He was still trying to come to terms with the events of the last twenty minutes. If this was a nightmare, he hoped he’d wake up from it soon.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed, and I’ll, uh… start on dinner.”

Miles brushed past him, disappearing to the opposite end of the house. Scott’s expression was blank, as he let out a deep sigh he’d been holding in. The two of them had been dealing with an unmanageable amount of shit between them, especially on an emotional level. Scott was beginning to feel suffocated-- he needed some room, and time, to himself.

As the other man was busying himself in the kitchen, Scott took the opportunity to set himself up on a date. He pulled out his phone, downloaded a few different dating apps that he could find, and set up a profile on each-- keeping his options fairly open. He wasn’t exactly at an age where he could be _picky_.

He also wasn’t interested in a serious relationship at this point, unless he somehow _miraculously_ met someone who he honestly _clicked_ with-- but he’d had terrible luck with that in the past. For now, he’d put himself out there, and remain optimistic. 

A multitude of suggested matches flashed up on the screen, and he began swiping each one, taking no real time to think about it. That was, until he saw a familiar face. He paused, lingering on a photograph of the person he’d once called his wife, before clicking the _not interested_ option.

Scott could consider two possibilities-- either she’d moved on just as fast, or she’d already been searching for someone else long before they broke up. He bet on the latter, but whether or not it was true, it didn’t matter at this point. He couldn’t be upset. She wasn’t his problem anymore. Miles, on the other hand, wouldn’t be as calm in this situation. But he was no longer Miles.

This entire process was exhausting, and he was already over it-- locking his phone and tossing it to the side. Why did it have to be like this? In all honesty, he’d rather enjoy being single for a while-- it wasn’t like he _had_ to have someone else in his life. He could always spend some time to himself, do some soul-searching and the like-- if it wasn’t for his sex drive, reminding him of just how horny he was, at the most awkward and inopportune times.

He’d figure something out-- some way to balance his mind and body to make it tolerable. He wasn’t sure how, but he’d get there. He had no choice; the last thing he needed right now was to make his relationship with Miles even _weirder_ than it already was.

* * *

Scott wasn’t the type to stay late at work, or do overtime in general-- but he decided he needed a break from being around Miles, especially after what occurred last night. Not that Miles had done anything wrong, but… he had a lot on his mind, and could use the time to think

What was worse, though, was the fact that the image of what he’d seen _constantly_ flashed in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept replaying that scene, over and over in his head, for reasons unknown to him, taunting him.

Scott shook his head. He was horny, that’s all. It was nothing that a quick porn session couldn’t fix. By now, it was so late in the evening, that everyone else in the office had left. It wasn’t the best of ideas to do this at work, but he had no choice-- there was no way he’d get any time to himself back at their apartment, unless it was the shower-- but that was nowhere near as comfortable.

After another quick glance around the office, and certain he was alone, Scott shut the door to his office, snipping the lock-- because hey, there was no such thing as being too careful. With the lights dimmed, he pulled out his laptop, booting it up quickly and navigating to his favourite _adult entertainment_ site.

It’d been far too long since he’d last done this, which was surprising-- he’d had an insatiable libido ever since he’d been cloned, and had become used to ducking away in the restrooms every time he had the unfortunate run in with an unwanted hard on.

Scott was pent up, it was normal, _natural_ even.

He thought no more of it, getting himself comfortable, and setting to work. He’d become quite used to this by now, so he wouldn’t need much time or effort before he could get some release. 

As the video began, he let his mind go blank, focusing on the task at hand. He quickly found the right pace that worked for him, letting his mind go, and focusing on the _feeling_. He closed his eyes, imagining himself with some unseen person-- his hands touching, exploring and grasping-- pulling legs around his hips, arms around his shoulders-- feeling the closeness of another person and enjoying every minute of it.

Finally, when he was about to tip over the edge, he bit down on his free hand to stifle a moan-- he continued his imaginary scenario, as he leaned in to capture the other’s lips, only to come face to face with a very flustered mess of a man--

Miles.

Scott’s mind went completely blank in shock and horror, as he stared at the sticky mess in his hand, eyes wide, breath held.

_The fuck was that about?_

No, no, no-- it didn’t mean anything. 

It wasn’t real. This… this wasn’t happening. He had some wires crossed, that’s all. His mind was deceiving him. 

If Scott wasn’t panicking before, he most certainly was _now._

He scrambled for his phone, flicking it open and clicking on the dating app he’d signed up for earlier. He’d already received a multitude of matches and messages from various other people., but he felt that this rather awkward experience was trying to tell him something.

He knew two things-- he needed to get laid, and he needed to think about someone else. He didn’t care _who_ it was, he just needed _someone_ to help take his mind off this sudden… _whatever this was_ that was being caused by Miles.

Scott glanced at one match in particular. It was another guy, a few years younger than himself. He was rather cute, and in all honesty, exactly his type. This could be a sign. He had nothing to lose, either way.

He tapped on the message, replying back hastily. Within the next few minutes, they’d set up a date-- Friday night at eight o’clock, down at the local pub. Perfect. That was exactly what he needed right now. He could focus on this guy, and if he was lucky, head back to his place afterwards. 

Then he could put this whole weird, awkward infatuation behind him.

* * *

Miles was sitting on the edge of the couch, like always-- still hunched over with his terrible posture, his hair a mess and his nerdy old-lady glasses on, staring intently at his computer. Scott couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, but he could tell that Miles was in a particularly bad mood today. 

He appeared frustrated, mumbling softly at the screen in front of him. If he could hazard a guess, he’d say he had a writer’s block. 

Scott had tried his best not to avoid Miles since his strange thoughts and feelings began nagging at the back of his mind, and _especially_ after what had happened earlier. He wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, and he wasn’t going to change how he acted around Miles, or how he spoke to him. But it was hard, sometimes-- when he’d look him directly in the eyes, and Scott couldn’t help but avert his gaze.

It had been nearly two weeks since their fight-- since they’d called a truce, hugged it out, and talked about their feelings. He felt like that was a big turning point in their lives, but it had also been comforting.

Scott missed it. Even if it was brief. 

Fuck it. 

He didn’t care anymore. He wanted to be close, he needed affection and he was too tired to be concerned with the consequences right now. At least they wouldn’t need to make eye contact this way.

Scott hovered behind the couch for a brief moment, staring at the back of Miles’ neck for no particular reason. After brief contemplation, he climbed over the back of the couch, directly behind Miles, taking a seat between him and the cushions. Both of his legs were on either side, arms wrapped around his waist, and chin resting on his shoulder

To Scott’s surprise, it took Miles another minute or two to even notice he was there.

“What are you doing?” Miles asked, fidgeting slightly under his grasp.

That was a valid question, one that he’d asked himself more and more often with each passing day. He had no idea, if he was entirely honest with himself.

“Getting comfortable,” Scott shrugged in response, eyes feeling heavy.

Miles remained frozen in his hold for another moment, before letting out a brief sigh, and returning to what he was doing. Scott was thankful for that, he didn’t want to explain himself, he just wanted to feel something.

Which made him realise-- had it always been this comfortable to hold someone else? He’d nearly forgotten what it was like-- the warmth, the subtle sound of a distant heartbeat, and brief movements with each new intake of breath.

If he didn’t focus on something, he was going to fall asleep.

Scott eyed down to the laptop screen, eavesdropping on Miles’ writing. It appeared to be coming along nicely, from what he could see. He decided to ask how his progress was going, and was rather surprised at how talkative an answer he received. Miles was rather excited to tell him, detailing the characters and little side-plots that he’d developed so far. At some point he stopped listening, eyes focusing on Miles’ expression as he spoke with genuine passion.

“I still think you should make the protagonist a murderer,” Scott commented, attempting to rile him up.

Miles huffed, pulling away from his laptop. “So... _why_ would she ever murder someone?”

Scott shrugged. “Good question-- that can be explored in the story.”

“But that’s besides the whole point--”

“At least it won’t be as boring.”

Miles looked slightly offended. “Remind me, then-- how would _not_ including a murderer make it boring?”

“It adds mystery to it,” he replied with a chuckle. “Then you can make it a big reveal at the end.”

Even though Scott couldn’t see Miles’ face very clearly from this angle, he could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

The warmth and comfort, mixed with the soft sound of Miles tapping away at the keyboard, made Scott begin to doze off. He’d had a tough week, not just at work, but his mind was working in constant overdrive. He just wanted to let go, to relax, to just not think… at least for just a few minutes.

He sat up with a start, the world suddenly far darker around him than he remembered. He pulled back, head spinning at the movement

“You’re finally awake. Was wondering if I’d be stuck here forever,” Miles commented with a surprising softness to his voice.

“Sorry…” he replied, words turning into a yawn. “Didn’t think I was that tired.”

Scott felt an awkward blush creeping up on him, and he was very glad he was in a position where Miles couldn’t properly see his face.

He made no effort to move, and Miles made no indication that he needed to.

It was then that he realised that Miles appeared rather preoccupied, having discarded his laptop at some point, and staring at his phone intently. It was rather odd, considering how rarely he’d use the damn thing.

Was he… was that a _dating_ app? Huh. That was… surprising. 

“Expecting something?” Scott poked at him with curiosity.

Miles flinched at the sudden question, tucking his phone away quickly. “N-no, not at all.”

He didn’t think Miles would even _think_ about dating again anytime soon. But, hey-- they were both handsome guys, still in their late thirties, and enjoyed beer and good company. It was bizarre, in a way, that two people so similar would attract such different types of people. 

Or, in Miles’ case, no one at all.

Scott felt relieved. He didn’t want Miles to see someone else. He didn’t want him to leave. He wanted to keep him all to himself.

He startled at his thoughts, shocked by how he was still feeling. Wait-- why the hell did he suddenly feel so protective of Miles? Why did he want to hold on to him, and never let go? 

No, this wasn’t right-- he couldn’t feel like this.

His pulse quickened, breathing heavy-- he was beginning to regret his decision to sit behind Miles. He was so close. His hands wanted to wander, they wanted to touch, to _feel_ \-- he wanted to grab his hips, to bite his neck, and--

“Oh yeah,” Miles said, looking up, and snapping him out of it. “This may sound weird, but I… I swear I saw that car again today.”

Scott straightened up, mildly alarmed. 

That was close-- he didn’t want to know how much his thoughts would have escalated if he hadn’t been interrupted. But what worried him more, in this moment, was who the hell this person was that was after them.

“You mean that station wagon you mentioned the other day?” he asked.

“Yeah. As soon as I went outside it sped off down the road,” Miles gestured to the large window beside them, giving a perfect view of the driveway and street in front of their apartment block.

Scott’s concern about the mystery vehicle was beginning to get to him. He had a _really_ bad feeling about it. He was yet to see the car himself, which only concerned him _more_. There was no telling if these people were after Miles, or both of them, for that matter. 

“You need to be more careful, Miles. Fuck knows who they are or what they want.”

He shrugged it off, averting his gaze. “I doubt they’d be dangerous.”

Miles’ nonchalant comments only further fueled his sense of oncoming dread. He needed to keep him safe.

“You’d better be right.”

* * *

This was the moment of truth. 

Scott was going to go out. On a date. With someone he’d never met. Something he hadn’t done for nearly _ten years_ . After tonight, he’d know for _certain_ what all his strange thoughts and feelings of late-- concerning Miles-- meant to him.

He’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for a solid ten minutes, fixing his hair and inspecting every line and blemish on his face a little too closely. He was nervous, uncomfortable, and his anxiety was making his palms sweat. He was beginning to feel like an old man in comparison, as if he’d suddenly aged ten years overnight.

In all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in spending the evening somewhere other than here. He had to remind himself why he was doing this-- even if nothing happened, he needed to be around other people for a little while. 

Scott moved to the front door, cringing already at the conversation to come.

“I’m going out,” he announced. “Don’t wait up.”

Miles turned his head with a look of surprise. “It’s pretty late. Where are you going?”

That was a very good question, Scott thought to himself. He could lie. Could say he’s just nicking down to the shops to pick up some supplies, or something equally as boring, but he found it so hard to be _decieving._

“Just down to the pub for a few drinks. I won’t be late.”

“Sounds great. I’ll get my--”

“Please stay here,” Scott interrupted, trying his best to be nice.

Miles faltered. “Am I that much of an embarrassment?”

“No, it’s not that, Miles--”

“It’s okay. I get it. I’ll be here,” Miles said with a hint of anger, turning away. “Go enjoy your _date_.”

Of course Scott was that transparent.

He hated it when Miles talked like that about himself. But he wasn’t sure if it would instill any more confidence if he was honest and said _no because I’m on a date and it would be weird to turn up with my twin._

Scott faltered by the door, fingers drumming along the side in contemplation. He had no idea what he was in for this evening, a hundred different possibilities shuffling through his mind.

“I... might not be home tonight,” he said, knowing he’d change his mind, and never leave, if he looked at Miles. “Get some rest.”

Now outside, Scott let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in. He paused a moment, leaning against the closed door of their apartment with a sigh, willing Miles out of his head for the evening. This was about spending time with someone else, someone new, and he’d be damned if he spent the entire night thinking about Miles.

That was the plan, at least.

The drive down to the pub was brief, thankfully. Being left alone with his thoughts was not a great idea at the moment, and an evening of distraction would do him good.

When Scott arrived at his destination, he took a moment to stare at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. He certainly wasn’t looking his best, which he could blame on his current mental predicament, but he could at least try to look a _little_ more presentable. He combed a hand through his hair, fixed up the top few buttons of his shirt, and gave himself a final brush down.

This would have to do.

Once he was indoors, finding his date was rather easy. He’d been sitting at the bar, arriving earlier than Scott, already helping himself to some kind of cocktail. He recognised Scott immediately, waving a hand with a big smile and enthusiasm to match.

His name was Elias. He was quite cute, if Scott could say so himself-- soft spoken, with a lovely smile and an outgoing personality to match.

During their conversation, Scott knew he was in trouble the moment he realised that he’d consider friendship over anything else. That wasn’t the way this was meant to go. This wasn’t the way he was meant to _feel._

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t imagine anything escalating past this type of platonic date. The thought of going home with this guy, or any other girl or guy for that matter-- filled him with nothing but dread and disinterest. 

It didn’t make any sense-- he was unbelievably horny, and getting laid was currently high on his to-do list, but…

Every time he closed his eyes, and tried to imagine something-- a sexual encounter with a faceless someone; skin against skin, touching, feeling, _kissing--_ he’d always see his own familiar face staring back at him, full of lust and desire and--

It wasn’t sex he was interested in. It was sex with _Miles_.

That realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks.

Oh _fuck--!_

That’d couldn’t be possible. How could he be attracted to himself? But no-- it wasn't like that. He barely recognised Miles as someone he used to be. They were so different. Even in their appearance, let alone their personality.

But it was _more_ than that.

Miles was important to him. Someone to care for, someone to protect. It was so confusing, but his mind and body knew what they wanted. He wasn’t a strong person. He wasn’t good at denying himself, and his feelings--

They weren’t something he could easily change, he realised that now.

“Am I boring you?” Elias asked with concern, snapping Scott back to the present.

“No-- no, I’m sorry,” he apologised quickly, realising he must be rather poor company. “My head’s just a mess at the moment.”

Much to his surprise, Scott’s date gave him a solem, understanding glance.

“Let me guess, you just came out of a long-term relationship?”

Scott paused, completely caught off guard. “Yeah… How did you know?”

“I’ve been there too. It’s hard to get yourself back out there afterwards.”

“Yeah, it’s still a bit of a shock to me,” Scott admitted, picking up his glass of scotch with a shrug. “But I guess I can’t keep holding on to the past.”

Elias laughed, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever get Miles to laugh like that.

 _Shit_ , he was doing it again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Scott looked up, slightly startled. “What’s on your mind?”

Elias leaned in a little, voice lowering. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

“What? No--”

“It’s okay, I won’t be offended,” he interrupted. “Not all loves are easy, and not all are reciprocated.”

Scott laughed at just how transparent he must be. It’s some kind of miracle that Miles hadn’t picked up on it yet. He was beginning to get past the point of denial, but that didn’t mean he’d accept it.

“Had no idea I was that obvious,” he sighed, running a hand down his face.

“I’m in the same boat. It’s easy to recognise,” Elias swirled his drink in a lazy manner. “So tell me about him.”

Scott furrowed his brow. “How do you know it’s a _him?_ ”

“Because you’re acting like a complete fish out of water right now. I’d hazard a guess that you’ve never dated a guy before.”

“Well, I’m not _that_ inexperienced--”

“College doesn’t count.”

Scott was silent for a moment, pursing his lips.

“Fair point.”

“Let me guess-- he’s married?”

Scott shook his head, glancing away. “Not anymore.”

“Damn,” Elias perked up. “Perfect opportunity then.”

Scott grimaced, hunching over the table so that he could lean on his elbow. “It’s still rather… recent.”

“Straight as well, I’m guessing?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No. Well, not really.” Now that he thought about it, Miles would deny it if he asked. “But I doubt he’d admit it, to himself or anyone else.”

Elias gave him a knowing nod. “Understandable. I know the type. Still, I fail to see what’s holding you back, then, all things considered.”

 _Self-worth, probably._ Scott thought to himself. _Fear, mostly._

He was reaching his wit’s end, and he felt as if his date noticed it too. It was barely eleven o’clock before the two of them parted ways, even with his insistent apologies, he offered to organise another get-together at some point. He didn’t realise what he’d committed to before it was already said and done.

He knew it was a lie.

As he sat in his car, Scott took a moment to contemplate. The evening hadn’t gone how he’d planned-- in fact, it had only put him in an even worse mindset than he started. He’d hoped that he’d be able to have a one-night stand, or develop feelings - even if it was just lust - towards someone else. Anything to get his mind off of what it was currently focused on.

But it hadn’t worked. If anything, he’d spent even _more_ time focusing on Miles.

Scott sighed, taking out his phone and unlocking the screen. The three different dating apps he’d set up were sitting there, staring back at him. There were plenty of other people out there he could meet, maybe he hadn’t met the right one yet. Perhaps he could date a few more people, men _and_ women, and see where it went.

He grimaced, furrowing his brow. It was no use. He’d hate to be the kind of guy who asked others on a date, only to be absent-minded and focused elsewhere. He hovered over the app, contemplating. He swore under his breath in frustration, uninstalling each of them, one after the other.

The phone was discarded to his side swiftly afterwards, having had enough with the games he was playing with his love-life. He felt completely hopeless. There had to be a way for him to go back to normal, to reprogram himself to not have these fears and desires.

If he couldn’t focus on someone else, then maybe he could wait it out-- continue on, and hope that with time, he’d go back to the way he used to be. But if he waited too long, and he still felt this way-- what if he missed his chance? Miles may be a bit of an emotional wreck at the moment, but he was still attractive, and lonely-- what’s to stop him finding someone else before then? What’s to stop him from _leaving?_

Scott felt his stomach drop at the thought of Miles being with someone else. He felt so conflicted, and he fucking _hated_ it-- this entire ordeal had gone on too long. He couldn’t deny it any longer, and the events of the night, and the thoughts crowding his mind had only further cemented his feelings as reality.

He was attracted to Miles. He couldn’t understand _how_ or _why_ , but that was how it was, reasoning escaping him.

He scowled at how his own heart could do this to him. He still hadn’t convinced himself that these feelings were real. He’d considered plenty of possibilities where Miles would leave him, but on the other hand, if Miles somehow did _miraculously_ accept him, what if only then he realised that these feelings meant something entirely different?

Something had to be done about it, regardless of the outcome, before he lost what remained of his sanity.

* * *

It wasn’t fair.

His clone had been avoiding him one minute, and then acting as if they were best friends the next. Miles still couldn’t fathom what it all meant, especially now, home alone with his thoughts again-- the one situation that he’d prefer to avoid.

Miles knew he was being self-destructive, but he had no idea what else to do with himself.

There Scott went; out to have fun without him-- on a _date_ no less. Lucky bastard. He knew the other man wouldn’t admit it openly, but there was no other reasoning for going out so late. That’s what made no sense to Miles. They were supposed to be the same, and if that was the case-- how the hell was _he_ so popular, charming and likable, and yet Miles was stuck here, wallowing in his own self pity?

He didn’t want to be lonely. He didn’t want to be sad. But it was no use. If his literal clone couldn’t stand to be around him, then how could anyone else?

For all those years, Miles had no idea what Kate had seen in him-- and now that their relationship was over, he knew that whatever that something was, she didn’t see it anymore. So who else _could_?

Miles blinked, eyes feeling heavy. He found himself standing in front of the fridge again, to the surprise of no one. It was normal, at this point. Reach for another beer, and then another, and then another-- to just keep going until these thoughts dissipated from his mind, until his feelings were numb, until it just didn’t matter anymore.

His motivation and care were non-existent, slipping back into a comfortable ball on the couch, sinking further into the cushions. As much as Miles hated to admit it, he liked having his clone around to keep him company, especially when it was silent. He was certain that Scott would agree, if he asked, especially after their earlier interaction on the couch. Miles was nearly too stunned by his actions to say anything,

Fuck, he was so pathetic. He was so desperate to be held that he’d be happy with anyone at this point. If only he hadn’t become such a master at pushing people away, his life could have been different.

It was just another night full of excuses that he’d use to drink himself into oblivion until his sorrows disappeared once more.

* * *

In all honesty, Scott wasn’t confident that he was ready to get back into dating. The summary of the last few hours showed that, but it was nice, at least for a while-- to go out, relax, talk to a stranger and enjoy some beer and company.

Scott couldn’t give up yet-- from what he could tell, it wasn’t as if he’d be able to move on and forget quite so easily. He couldn’t help but wonder just how many people he’d have to see, or date, or _fuck_ , until his mind would finally drop this obsession he had for Miles.

Miles…

The other night, when he was talking about his script, it was so nice to see him like that-- he almost looked _happy,_ rather than his usual depressed self. It gave him hope, made him feel warm inside, and he wished he could do more for Miles in the slim chance that he’d make that face again.

Scott shook his head, placing his face in his hands. _Shit_ . He was doing it again. He needed to stop. What even _was_ this? These _feelings_ … the thoughts that would plague his mind constantly. Where were they coming from? Why couldn’t he control them? What did it all _mean_?

He was lonely, and he was horny. That was it. He was only thinking about Miles because he was the one person close to him. For fuck’s sake, they _lived_ together-- it doesn’t get much closer than that.

This was going to become a problem, he could feel it.

As Scott entered the apartment, it was surprisingly quiet, and dark. The only light source within was coming from the soft glow of the television, silent but flickering with each new image on screen. If he had any luck, Miles had probably already gone off to bed, leaving him to collapse on the couch and wrap himself up in his misery for the night.

If only he was so lucky.

Miles was exactly where he’d left him, on the couch, fast asleep, and reeking of alcohol. Nothing out of the ordinary, all things considered-- but a drunk Miles was not what he was interested in dealing with at this moment.

It left Scott with a decision to make. He could simply ignore him and steal the bed for the night, allowing Miles to wake up after a very uncomfortable night of rest on the couch, on top of the hangover that he was sure to have.

But Scott knew that he wouldn’t want that for himself. Which was exactly why he _couldn’t_ do it.

Damn his sense of morality.

He stood in front of the couch, staring down at Miles again in contemplation. It was rare for him to have such a quiet moment around the other, and it was almost calming, in a way, to see him like this. He didn’t look angry, or sad-- just tired.

“Alright… up you get,” Scott instructed, placing a hand on his shoulder and rocking him gently.

The other man stirred, eyes opening blearily. “Kate?” he mumbled rather pathetically.

“Guess again,” he replied, almost a sneer.

Miles groaned, trying to twist away. “Leave me alone,” he slurred, trying his best attempt to bury himself into the couch.

Scott let go, standing up straight and placing a hand on his hip. What the hell was he going to do with this sad case? At this point he’d have better luck just picking him up and throwing him in his room.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough. Time to get you to bed,” Scott stated, pulling him to his feet. Miles was practically limp in his arms. “Why are you drinking so much anyway?”

Miles made a disgruntled sound. “You were out having fun, so what else was I supposed to do?”

He rolled his eyes in response. “Oh my _god_ \--”

“The fuck are you even doing here?” Miles interrupted. “I thought you were out getting laid--”

Scott lost his last piece of self control, as his patience faded. They were barely half way down the hall to the bedroom, when he slammed Miles up against the wall, holding him there with all his strength. Miles could barely hold himself upright, let alone fight back against him.

He leant in, hovering by the other man’s neck, breathing heavily. He felt drunk on need and lust, his actions no longer something he could control. He found his boundaries slipping more and more-- Miles would be so easy to take advantage of right now, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t stoop to that level, or he’d never forgive himself.

How had he become like this? Why were his instincts controlling him like some kind of animal? Why the fuck was he so turned on?

“Get off me…” Miles muffled against his chest, snapping him back to reality.

Scott left his grip loosen slightly, as he put some space between them. He could play this off. He just needed to act cool, and get himself under control again, before he did something stupid.

“Go easy on the beer, Miles. It’s making you sloppy… among other things.”

Miles looked almost offended. “Fuck you, it’s my body and I’ll... do what I want… with it...”

Scott bit his lip. The less he thought about fucking Miles, the better.

“It’s mine too so I get a say,” he replied.

Miles scoffed, waving a dismissive hand as he continued his struggle to bed. He collapsed on in, not even making an effort to get changed beforehand. Scott rolled his eyes, pulling off his shoes and tossing them aside. The drunkard didn’t put up a fight, instead trying his best to curl up on his side.

“She’s really…. not coming back for me... is she?” Miles asked, voice breaking mid-sentence.

It was only in that moment that Scott realised he was crying, and suddenly every ounce of annoyance he felt evaporated. He moved to the side of the bed, sitting down next to him, and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey… it’s gonna to be okay,” he whispered.

“What am I gonna do… I can’t do this by myself,” Miles let out a pitiful sound. “It hurts so much…”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

If Miles was addicted to alcohol, and Scott was addicted to Miles, what hope did either of them have to become functioning adults? Both of them were on a path of self destructive behaviour, with no end in sight.

What scared Scott the most was what would happen when they saw her face to face again. It was only a matter of time, until they’d have to see her. They still had a divorce to settle.

There were two ways it would go-- he was convinced that she’d either turn up, apologise, and want to get back with Miles, or… she’d hand them divorce papers and never see them again. Only _one_ of those possibilities would be in Scott’s favour, their current situation considered. He was selfish, and he knew that what he _wanted_ was selfish. But he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to have to live by himself anymore-- he had no idea who he’d become. 

It terrified him.

It was greedy of Scott to want Miles to be anything more to him-- especially when he was nothing more than a clone who ruined the life of another without meaning to. But sometimes… sometimes, he just needed someone to hold onto, and tell him that everything was going to be fine.

Even if it was a lie.

* * *

Every time Miles woke up feeling as shitty as he did right now, he’d always tell himself that this would be the last time-- that he’d stop drinking so much, and get his shit together… But then he’d remember everything, the joke that was his life, and go back into the same cycle over and over again to numb the pain.

He could deal with the dryness in his throat, the throbbing pain in his head, the way his body felt sore all over and screamed at him for relief. He was used to it by now.

What he couldn’t deal with, was what he saw in front of him, outlined in the darkness.

Someone else, someone who happened to look just like him. It was rather… relaxing, to lie here, staring at the soft, sleeping face of a man who was his double. Miles couldn’t help but wonder if they looked the same when they dreamed.

Scott was breathing softly, and had a hand resting softly on Miles’ hip, which he tried not to focus on, finding the gesture rather comforting to him. No wonder he was so warm.

After the initial shock of the situation wore off, Miles felt relieved. It was nice not to be left alone, but it made him struggle more to remember how they’d even ended up here. Scott must have brought him to bed, knowing just how terrible his balance was when he’d had a few too many.

How considerate.

Miles would have to repay him somehow. He’d have to apologise as well, feeling the dread creep in the more he thought about how selfish and unlikable he’d been acting the last few days. It was any wonder why his clone put up with him.

Before he could comprehend what he was doing, his free hand reached out towards the other man’s face, and--

Miles pulled back rather suddenly, with a sharp breath. What the hell was he trying to do? He had to stop himself. He couldn’t get attached, he couldn’t get close-- not when he’d eventually leave Miles.

He’d be alone, with no one to turn to, because he’d pushed the last person he had out of his life. He had to learn how to cope, otherwise he’d drag his clone down with him. He couldn’t live with himself if he let that happen. He’d done enough damage already.

Even the events of last night were a blur to him. Miles was in no mood to try to remember, especially with the way it only further aggravated his head-- he could only hope he hadn’t made a complete embarrassment of himself.

But there was a little nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he’d said something pathetic. Why else would his clone be stuck here comforting him? Pity, most likely. He was like that, Miles-- nothing but a pitiful excuse of a human being.

Miles was still unsure about what it was that the two of them even had now, since their fight. Neither one of them had brought it up. Was he considered a friend? An ally? A roommate? Or just some guy that happened to look just like him, and live under the same roof?

Was he a burden? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

It was still dark. Miles could hazard a guess that it was too early to be awake, and there was no way he was getting up with how comfortable he felt. Might as well get at least a few more hours sleep.

If Scott was supposed to be a perfect version of himself, in his top form, an example of him at his best-- Miles wondered if that would be too much of a burden-- expectations impossible to live up to.

He wanted them to be different; to choose a path in life that suited them both in their best interests.

Miles couldn’t keep holding on to him. He had to let go. Otherwise he’d find himself back in the same hole he started in.

Sad.

And alone.

* * *

Scott woke up early the following day, like clockwork. He needed to get out of the house, he needed to think, and better yet, he needed some advice. He could think of only one person he had left to turn to, who could help him with his current predicament, before he lost his mind.

Thankfully, Miles was still fast asleep when he left. Scott hadn’t meant to fall asleep next to him-- he swore that he’d just lie there for a minute, with a comforting gesture, to help Miles fall asleep. But after that, he couldn’t stop staring at him, at the sadness and borderline misery on his face, that broke Scott’s heart in to. After that, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, to leave him like that all night.

He was glad that he managed to get away with it, before Miles took notice of him. His condition was getting worse by the minute.

“My clone brother!” Maia exclaimed, pulling him into a hug.

“Hi, Maia,” Scott replied, returning the embrace. “How did you know?”

“For clones, the difference is uncanny,” she laughed, pulling him through the front door. “Come on in, I was just in the middle of my latest project--”

“Wait, hold on.”

Maia paused, turning to him slowly and giving him a curious look. He’d nearly forgotten about his new name, and it would help them all out if he clarified his identity.

“I’m, uh… Miles and I decided to… give me a new name, to make this whole situation a little less confusing for others.”

“All right-- so what do I call you now, clone-bro?”

“I-- well… Scott,” he replied, a little sheepishly. “Call me Scott.”

“Huh,” she placed a hand on her chin, considering this new development. “You know, I think that really suits you.”

Scott laughed, feeling his anxiety wane. “So I’ve been told.”

* * *

After a thorough education regarding each of Maia’s latest art projects, Scott finally had a chance to talk to her. He hadn’t mentioned the reason for his visit, but his sister had a knack of reading him like an open book.

“All right, so... you have feelings for someone,” she said.

“Yeah,” Scott replied. “I think so.”

“But you don’t think they’d ever return your feelings?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugged, as if he was a twelve-year-old talking about his first crush.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I’m empathising.”

“ _Are you?”_ Scott asked, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, I’m trying. I mean, honestly, relationships have never been my strong suit.”

“I know, and I’ve been married once, and dated before that, but,” Scott bit his lip. “This… this is _different_.”

Maia gave a knowing nod, ushering him to follow her to the next room.

“You know, there is a beautiful Judeo-Christian notion,” Henry appeared rather abruptly, suddenly standing beside them. “Although, it originally dated back to Egyptian mythology--”

“You’re being pedantic, Henry,” Maia interrupted.

He waved her off, focusing his attention to Scott. “Anyway-- it says that a marriage is the union of two halves of the same soul separated at birth, that-- that each of us has a… a _literal_ soulmate, who each of our own half soul yearns to… to join with and form a whole,” he represented his words by fitting his hands together. “And that we are _incomplete_ without that union.”

Scott had first assumed that Henry was talking complete nonsense, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. In a strange, unconventional way. 

He was created from Miles, meaning to two of them would _technically_ share a soul. They were two halves of a whole, but their situation was different to most. Was that why he felt the way he did towards Miles? Would it mean that Miles was in a similar predicament? If they were connected through their soul, if such a concept existed, it could explain the way he felt.

“How exactly is that helpful in this moment, right now?” Maia asked her partner with a look of distaste.

“Well, I mean, you know, there is a…” Henry grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’re a lot of _half souls_ in this situation.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling Scott along into the next room, and snapping him from his thoughts. He’d done far too much thinking, and even considering how this conversation was going to go with his sister, he was beginning to doubt if he could admit his feelings to her face.

“Listen. Do you actually want some useful advice?” she asked, offering him a seat.

Scott nodded, sitting by the coffee table. “Please.”

“Out there is a whole new world of people, right? And all of them… wanna get laid. And if they don’t-- somebody _else_ does. You got countless dating apps out there,” Maia gave him an optimistic smile. “You could find _anybody_ you want, or you could do it the old fashioned way. Go out, find somebody hot, and take them back to your place.”

Scott swallowed down the anxiety forming in his throat. Yeah, okay, sure… He’d tried that already. Maybe he just had to try _harder_. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a multitude of matches and interested people sending him messages. But it all felt so fake. He felt like he was being someone else, and not being true to himself. That’s why he’d moved on to other options.

“Trust me, like any real love, start with the fucking. That’s what he did,” she gestured to Henry, who was sipping tea nearby, looking off into the distance. “Now look at him.”

“So what you’re saying is… I should just ask this person out, and hope for the best?” He grimaced. “And if that doesn’t work… look at other options?”

If only it were that easy.

“More or less. Having an unrequited love sucks, but there’s no better cure than hopping into someone else’ bed. What do you have to lose?”

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat as he considered it.

Everything.

He would lose _everything._

* * *

Scott was convinced that Maia would be the only person to understand his feelings, or at the least, help him figure out what to do with himself. He’d been contemplating for the last few minutes on how best to approach the rather _delicate_ nature of his romantic situation.

She’d always been reasonable, and easy to talk to, but... where could he even start? How could he explain something that even he didn’t understand himself?

He was so fucked. Maybe he should have taken Miles’ original offer, when this all started, to just go overseas and disappear. Now look where it’s gotten him.

“Hey, Maia...” Scott started, glancing in her direction.

“Mm?” She tried to say something, but it was muffled by the collection of biscuits she’d crammed in her mouth.

“I, uh... need your advice on something, but it’s kind of… _different_.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” she replied, looking proud. “That’s my _specialty_.”

Scott sighed, beginning to feel frustrated. He was struggling to find the right words-- he could just come right out and say it, spill the beans, wait and hope that his sister tells him that he’s got a screw or two loose. Or it might be easier to try to ease into it.

“This is about your _mystery love interest_ , isn’t it?” Maia asked, waggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Scott chuckled awkwardly, averting his eyes. “You know, you are far too good at reading me.”

“It’s one of my _other_ specialties,” she smirked. “So-- do I know her? Or can I at least get a _name_? You know-- for scientific purposes.”

Of course, that was the first hurdle. The gender card. He’d never spoken much about relationships to his sister before, so he already felt himself bracing for impact. It wasn’t as if relationships with men were completely new to him, but it had been a while. In all honesty, he never thought he’d be interested in another man, but then again, he thought he’d be with Kate forever, and look where that got him.

He looked away, mumbling his response far quieter than he had intended.

“Come again?”

“Him,” Scott clarified, cursing his reddening cheeks. “ _His_ name.”

Maia’s eyes went wide at his response, and he saw a smile tugging at the side of her lips. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was all one terrible idea, that was quickly escalating downhill.

“Alright, before you get any ideas--”

His sister practically jumped in the air, making an over exaggerated display of victory.

“Yes! I’ve always wanted a brother-in-law. _Finally--_ ”

“Hey-- no getting ahead of ourselves, yeah?” Scott could hear his voice failing him the longer he spoke on the subject.

“Okay, okay-- I’m sorry,” she eventually sat back down, crossing one leg over the other. “Please, continue.”

Alright-- he’d come this far. This was it. The moment of truth

“It’s just… I don’t feel like I’m… allowed to have these feelings. If that makes sense.”

Maia grinned. “Ah, forbidden love. Now _that_ takes me back.”

“Maia,” he pressed. “Focus.”

“Shit-- sorry. You were saying?”

“If it were anyone else in the world, I’d be able to work this out,” he grimaced, hands digging into his jeans in frustration. “I know he hates me. At least, I think he does. He makes the same face every time he looks at me. It makes me just want to crawl into a hole and die. I… can’t handle it.”

He couldn’t stand to look her in the eye, but he was hoping that she had most likely caught on by now, to what he was insinuating-- to _who_ he was referring to.

“Wait, Scott, you don’t mean--”

“Don’t say it,” he interrupted, raising a hand on instinct, trying his best not to cringe. “I know. I _know_ how fucked up I am already. But I can’t make it stop, no matter what I do. These feelings-- I’m losing control. It’s… killing me.”

A silence fell. For the first time, Scott realised just how desperate he sounded once his words were out in the open.

“That just doesn’t add up,” Maia said, furrowing her brow.

Scott startled back to reality. He wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, unsure if he was regretting his words already.

“Sorry to break this to you, bro, but you-- _and_ Miles--” she leaned forward, as if to tell him a secret. “You are both far more similar than you realise, and I’m not saying that because you are _literal clones._ ”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t contain the chuckle that escaped him. He hadn’t really stopped to think about what Miles might think of him. If he was having these feelings, and with him being a part of Miles-- then perhaps there was a chance he felt the same.

“Yeah, you’re right. You always are.”

“Look, Scott… I’ll admit that I don’t quite understand how you feel, but that doesn’t mean your situation is hopeless.”

“You really think so?” He asked. “What do you suggest?”

“Just… talk to him. He’s my brother-- and so are you. I know you _both_ better than anyone else does, and I’ll support you no matter the outcome. He may be a stubborn son of a bitch, but if anyone can get through to him-- and get him out of the hole he’s been stuck in these last few years-- it would be you.”

He could hear the genuine sincerity in her voice, and he felt at ease, for the first time in weeks. He should have come here earlier, and saved himself some of the dread and despair hanging over him.

“Thanks, sis.”

“Now, go get yourself a piece of that ass,” Maia winked at him, as they headed back to the front door. “And I expect to hear _all_ the juicy details.”

Scott rolled his eyes, blush creeping up his neck. “I don’t know how I put up with you sometimes.”

“Oh, Scott… we’re family. It’s your obligation.”

She was optimistic, as always. He appreciated that about her.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he said, turning around bringing his sister in for another hug. “Thanks again.”

Maia laughed, slapping him on the back as they pulled apart. He was anxious to have some time to himself-- he’d been given a new point of view to his current predicament, and he had a lot to think about. He waved back as he walked to his car, feeling very thankful that he had someone like Maia to count on.

“Bring Miles with you next time,” she yelled from the doorframe. “You guys better not forget about me!”

* * *

Scott wished it was as easy as Maia led on, but knew it wasn’t. Not for him, and not for Miles. He was running out of options at this point. He had to check _everything_ he could off his list before it comes to that. 

To the… inevitable end of his sanity.

As he stood outside of the familiar building in front of him, the place where he was created, and the reason for all of his current problems, he couldn’t help but falter. When he’d come back here with Miles last time, they’d caused a huge fuss and been practically begging for a solution to their complicated situation, only to find themselves no closer to a resolution.

Scott raised his hand, hesitating a moment, before knocking on the door. It was dark inside, and they were closed by the look of it, but he had to at least try and hope they were there. 

As the seconds ticked on, he became more unsure of himself. He’d barely turned to leave before he heard the door swing open, finding himself face to face with one of the men who ran the facility, and… his daughter?

“We told you never to come back here,” Right stated, appearing both alarmed and concerned by his presence.

“I know, I know,” Scott replied calmly. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, I just need help. Advice, even.”

Scott could see the conflict in his eyes. The fact that Scott was here was already putting both of them at risk of being exposed for the cloning operation that they had going on. But he was desperate, and hoped they could do anything to help his situation-- anything at all.

After a moment of hesitation, Right let out a drawn out sigh, and gestured for Scott to come inside without another word. He ushered the young girl to the next room with a few soft words, and Scott couldn’t help but feel he had come by at a bad time.

The two of them sat down in the all too familiar office, but before either of them could get a word out, they were greeted by Left, who appeared quite displeased by Scott’s presence.

“The hell is he doing--”

Right got to his feet, interrupting the other man and exchanging a brief conversation in their first language. Whatever he said had worked in Scott’s favour, calming the other man down, before they both took a seat in front of him.

All eyes were on him now.

“Well? What do you want?”

Scott fidgitted in his seat, trying his best to remain calm and hope his voice wouldn’t waver.

“I need you to tell me more about the… _side effects_ of the cloning.”

Left raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to something _specific_?”

Oh great, here he goes. He could already feel his palms sweating in his lap.

“Even since the cloning, I’ve been finding myself… _lusting_ after someone who I shouldn’t be,” Scott swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his heart rate increasing. He really didn’t want to have to spell it out, but he didn’t know how to word it any better. “Is it possible to change the type of person you’re attracted to after being cloned? Or is this a side-effect?”

The two men exchanged glances, appearing concerned.

“We haven’t seen any reports of such a reaction from the cloning before,” Right replied with a shrug.

Of course not. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. Maybe it’d be best to drop the problems he was currently experiencing, and look for another way out. There was no way he was going into any more detail regarding his confounded feelings, let alone _admit_ to them.

“When it comes to the treatment here, I have no idea how you do… you know, what you do, but--” Scott closed his eyes for a moment. “Is there a way for you to modify my memories?”

He would have been able to hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

“I need to forget. Everything. I can’t just be a copy of someone else. It’s so hard to be someone I’m not,” Scott paused, leaning back to collect himself. He couldn’t back down after coming all this way. “I want to be my own person, and if that means starting a new life from nothing, that would be my only option at this point.”

After another long moment of silence, Right and Left turned to each other, exchanging further conversation that Scott couldn’t follow. He felt his stomach drop, waiting for the inevitable _no_ he would receive.

“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy,” Right stated quietly. “We could certainly try to do that on a _new_ clone, but someone such as yourself… it’s impossible.”

Scott’s emotions were overwhelming him at this point. He bit his lip, placing his head in his hands. Of course they couldn’t do anything for him, it was just his luck. Why was he even bothering with this in the first place?

“We understand how difficult this is, especially sharing an identity with another, which is why--” Left said, before being interrupted by his partner.

“We know someone who might be able to help.”

Scott looked up so quickly he felt dizzy, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline in surprise.

“How? In what way?” He pressed rather insistently. “Please, I’ll do _anything_.”

A moment passed, and he wondered just how pathetic he must sound right now.

“We’re not affiliated, but he can help give you--”

“A new identity. A paper trail, identification, birth certificates, that kind of thing,” Right clarified.

He pulled out a stack of cards from beside him, sifting through before eventually pulling out a card, and handing it over to Scott. He gave it a quick glance over-- not much information, just a name and a phone number.

This was a start. He could work with this. It didn’t help his memories, or his issue with Miles-- but it was better than nothing.

“Thank you,” Scott said, glancing at both of them. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. You won’t see me again.”

The two men nodded in unison.

“We’d appreciate that.”

* * *

That was it. He was out of options.

Sure, he’d be able to hopefully get his hands on some official documents with an identity to call his own, but that didn’t help him with the ache in his chest. At this point, he’d have to face Miles, talk it out with him, and hope for the best.

He needed to get this whole thing out in the open, out of the way, so he could accept his sadness and try to move on. Or, he could… bury it down, and hope he could forget it all. He couldn’t decide which fate was worse.

As he drove home, Scott imagined some of the possibilities for how his confrontation with Miles would go down. The two of them could sit down for dinner, and maybe have a few drinks, and then Scott could bring it up in the middle of a conversation and talk about it.

But in every single situation, in every single outcome, it ended up with Miles leaving.

Fuck, why even bother? Miles was all he had left, and he was sure as hell not going to lose him. Perhaps he’d been looking at it wrong this whole time. Maybe he could contact this guy, get a new identity, and just… disappear. Never tell Miles, never tell _anyone_ , he’d simply up and leave without another word.

Then, if he was lucky, time would mend his heart.

Scott slowly pulled into the apartment block, as he did most evenings, thinking nothing more of it. He didn’t even notice Miles standing out the front of their place until he was outside, locking up the car.

Miles gave him a quick wave, but it was short lived. Neither of them had time to react as two men emerged from the shadows, grabbing Miles and throwing him into the back of a dark van, and--

Scott didn’t have time to think, acting on instinct as he saw the one person he cared about taken from his grasp. It didn’t make sense-- who the fuck were these people, and why were they taking Miles, of all people? Unless--

Miles was right. This whole goddamn time. He was being followed, watched from a distance. But Scott didn’t think they’d actually _take him._ What could these people even _want_ with him?

Scott wasn’t nearly as fast on his feet as he’d hoped, unable to stop the van before it was speeding off down the nearby side street. He froze where he stood, considering the influx of options and possibilities now presented to him.

He could _technically_ use this chance to take Miles’ identity, to live his life-- and he’d probably have considered it, if this happened a few weeks earlier. But he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted a clean slate. A fresh start. There were other ways he could obtain that. But he’d still be pining, and he’d still be lying to himself. 

What kind of life would he even _have_ without Miles?

Without a second thought, Scott scuffled back to his car, turned the key in the ignition, and raced after the people who’d dare take Miles away from him. He wasn’t sure what kind of fight he was in for, but considering what was at stake, he’d risk everything.

* * *

Miles gasped for air as the bag over his head was finally removed. It was suffocating him, and he felt like he was on the edge of passing out. The lightness of the room nearly blinded him, his eyes fighting to open.

“Are you the ones who kidnapped me?” he asked hesitantly, voice croaky. “How the-- where--”

“Arrested,” the person in front of him corrected. “Not kidnapped.”

Miles assessed his surroundings as his vision cleared, noting it looked nothing like any interrogation room he’d ever seen. Looked more like a... Hold on, why was he being held in a dingy warehouse? This didn’t seem official at all.

There was no way these people were _real_ cops.

“Wait, you didn’t _arrest_ me--” Miles protested. “You put a bag over my head and threw me in a van!”

She narrowed her eyes, crouching closer. “ _Did we?”_

“Yes! Yes, you did! I was _there_!” He exclaimed, patience running thin.

His voice was breaking, desperation showing itself. The two strange maybe-cops paused, giving each other a glance, as if communicating in an unspoken language. Even though the two of them looked laughably out of place, Miles couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his position.

“My name is Agent Weinrod,” the first officer said, before gesturing to her right. “This is Agent Apley.”

Miles blinked in confusion. Knowing this information was not helping him understand the current situation in the slightest, causing him nothing but further agitation.

“Four weeks ago, our agency received an aborted tip-off call that we traced to a cell phone registered at your home address.”

A phone call… that must have been his mobile. But at the time, both he and Scott had been sharing it, so he must have--

“Is this why you were following me? I… I don’t… _What_?”

“Let me tell you-- it was hard to track you down once you abandoned your residence. But you didn’t fool us.”

The female officer leant forward, placing a cell phone on the table, and pressing the screen. A familiar voice echoed through the room as the recording played.

It was his own voice. Or more specifically-- his _clone’s_ voice.

_“Hi there. I’d like to report a violation of Title 21 regarding human cloning…”_

Miles felt panic in his chest, as his lungs refused to cooperate with him. No, that can’t be-- how did they-- but they hung up! This wasn’t supposed to be serious-- How did they get a recording of it? No thought had ever crossed his mind about that phone call since then, it didn’t even occur to him that it could come back to bite them on the ass.

_Shit!_

They should have been more careful. Miles had no idea how he was going to get out of this, especially by himself.

“That’s right. We’re the FDA. And we know all about your ‘ _spa_ ’. Along with thirty-five other suspected locations worldwide--”

Wait, _his_ spa? Did they seriously think that _he_ was the one running that cloning operation? What the hell? How could they jump to that conclusion?

“Now, according to your co-workers, you _claim_ to be the long-lost twin of _Miles Elliott_ , although no record of any such brother exists. Would you like to explain that to me?”

No, no, _no--_ this wasn’t right.

“The other one, he’s-- It’s not… Look, it’s not… It’s not what you think,” Miles was struggling to form coherent sentences, feeling what he hoped wasn’t a panic attack beginning to set in. “I can prove that I’m me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Weinrod sneered. “As far as we know, clones share the same memories. Nice try.”

Miles barely got another word out, before he found himself strapped to what could only be a lie detector, and he felt his stomach drop. Now he _knew_ he was screwed. He was a terrible liar, no matter how hard he tried. He was distressed enough as is-- he didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to him, or his clone, if they figured out the truth.

Surely this was a violation of his human rights.

Which reminded him-- Scott had been there, in the driveway-- he was positive he saw him, just before he was taken here. They made eye contact. But that didn’t mean anything. If Miles was in his position, he’d probably be _glad_ he was gone.

Miles bit his lip, willing away the tears threatening to break free.

For the first time since this shit started, he realised that he actually _missed_ having his clone around, much to his surprise. He’d had a way of creeping into his mind and occupying his thoughts, even after everything they’d been through.

Miles thought of all the harsh words and confrontations they’d shared, and the absolute hell the two of them had been through-- and now here he was, handcuffed with his future uncertain, without the chance to make things right between the two of them.

It wouldn’t surprise him if he never saw Scott again.

* * *

A dingy, abandoned warehouse was the last place Scott expected this chase to lead him to, but in all honesty, that was probably for the best. These people who took Miles-- whoever they were, he didn’t care at this point-- had a _reason_ for taking him, an agenda. He had to figure out what it was, and more importantly, if they were armed.

There was no way this was official business-- cops wouldn’t require a kidnapping, or to interrogate in a suspicious location like this-- unless they were up to no good. What had Miles even done to piss off these people? Scott needed answers, and he wasn’t going to get any standing outside any longer.

He’d found the front door unlocked, letting himself in quietly, as he creeped through the interior. It was dark inside, dim lighting assisting him through the building, following the distant echo of voices. At least that meant he was in the right place, but he could tell that whoever was talking, was being rather harsh with their words.

If Miles was hurt, even in the slightest, then these people would regret it once he was done with them.

Scott found another door around the corner, light streaming from below, and muffled voices on the other side. He reached for the handle, turning it with caution. As it swung open, he found that he’d managed to open the door at the most interesting part of, what he most certainly would _not_ call, an interrogation.

“Lies! _Everyone_ remembers the name of the first person they kissed! If you--”

The woman before him, who appeared to be yelling at the man he was looking for, paused mid-sentence. She turned, looking to the now-open door, to see a very familiar face looking back. What the hell had he managed to walk into?

“Excuse me, sorry-- am I interrupting?” Scott queried, standing in the doorframe. “You do look awfully busy in here.”

The male officer got to his feet so quickly that the chair beneath him fell over. “There, you see--” he pointed directly at his face, as if there were a different set of identical people nearby. “-- _clones!”_

Scott paused, expression going completely blank, and his mind doing much the same.

Fuck. This wasn’t good. How did they know about the cloning? There was no way they could possibly know about it. No, this wasn’t right-- he wasn’t going to fall for this. He had to think fast. He could bullshit his way out of this. He had to, for the safety of both of them.

“Oh, great-- not this shit again,” Scott pinched his brow. “Yeah, _sure_ . That would make sense. Except for the part where we have different scars... and the fact that we act nothing alike. We are nowhere _near_ clones, just identical twins.”

His eyes flickered down to Miles, who was panicked, distressed, and currently handcuffed. They hadn’t even given him the decency of a chair, or a glass of water-- he looked like he thought he was going to die, on the verge of _tears--_

Scott let out a sharp breath, trying his best to control his anger, and his rising desire to punch both of these so-called _cops_ directly in the face. If it wouldn’t send him to prison, then he gladly would. But all he was seeing right now was red.

When he looked at Miles again, this gaze was returned, noting that the other man was attempting to tell him something. He was quiet, and hard to hear over the dialogue of the two idiots in the room, but he picked up two, simple words.

_Phone call._

Everything in his mind suddenly fell into place. How could he have forgotten? _He_ was the one who made that stupid phone call to report the cloning. Of course they’d be investigated, of course Miles would be at the centre of it-- it was his fault. He was the reason why this was happening. How could he have been so _stupid_?

Scott shook his head. It didn’t matter anymore, he was here now, and they were leaving. They had no solid evidence to keep them here, and he’d had enough. This charade had gone on for _far too long_.

“Like I said, we’re _clearly_ twins,” he remarked, gesturing between himself and Miles. “Are you _still_ gonna try to make up some dumb story about _human_ _cloning_?”

The two agents exchanged a look, concern growing evident on their faces. If they were going to reply, he wasn’t interested in what they had to say. None of this appeared legal, and there was no way this was an official arrest.

He was going to get Miles out of here.

“Look--” Scott continued, crossing his arms. “We heard the rumour about cloning, and we were screwing around. We thought it would be funny, so I’m sorry that you took it seriously, and that this has been a big waste of so much of your time and resources. Now… if you’ll let me take my brother home?”

Weinrod and Apley were silent, fidgeting where they stood. He hit the nail on the head by the look of it. Apley eventually huffed and walked over to Miles, pulling at his cuffs and making him flinch. Scott was about to protest, until he realised he was undoing them-- _thankfully_.

He could see bruises beginning to form around Miles’ wrists, and he wanted nothing more than to ask if he was okay-- but they were nearly in the clear. He just needed to last a few more minutes. As soon as he was freed, Miles clamboured to his feet, brushing past Scott and hiding behind him. He stood his ground, considering his next move.

Was that it? Could they simply leave without another word?

The two of them were so close to finally getting out of the room, hand practically on the door, when another question hit him.

“But what about the lack of evidence, such as a birth certificate?” Weinrod asked, perplexed. “Can you at least explain that?”

Scott groaned. They really did their research, didn’t they?

He pet Miles on the shoulder gently, before turning back. He’d thought about this, ever since he’d left the spa. He knew that this conversation was going to happen at some point or another, and certainly more times in the future. They needed to be prepared.

Unfortunately, he _technically_ didn’t have any evidence yet, to show that he was, indeed, a different person. Good thing he was a master of talking his way out of any conversation. Hopefully it would delay long enough to get his records sorted.

“It’s a long, complicated story,” Scott raised a hand, and began counting out points on his fingers. “Trouble with our parents, lead to falsifying records, led to us being separated at birth, which then meant we didn’t find out about each other until recently, and--”

He paused, realising that Miles was tugging on the back of his shirt. The other man wasn’t meeting his gaze, staring at the floor instead. He took a guess that he was overdoing the act, just a little too much.

“That’s enough. Let’s go home,” Miles requested softly. “Please.”

Scott couldn’t say no to that. The sooner they were out of here, and somewhere more comfortable, the better it would do for both of them. Then he could hold Miles in his arms until this all blew over.

“The name’s Scott, by the way,” he told the two officers as he stood by the door. “Scott Elliott. Look it up again. My records were sorted out recently. You’ll find everything you need.”

He kept his hand on the small of Miles’ back, and it felt like it belonged there. He prayed that his bluff would work in the meantime, until he actually _did_ get his shit sorted out.

Scott let out a sigh of relief once they were back in the car, allowing him a moment to calm his nerves. He’d been ridiculously on edge today, and hoped the worst was over.

“Sorry about that-- I wasn’t supposed to be this late,” he said to Miles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Got caught up chatting to Maia, and then--”

“M-Maia!?” Miles stammered in shock. “What-- did you-- does she--”

“Yes, yes, she knows I’m a clone,” Scott reassured him. “I’ve seen her a few times since all this started. She’s understanding as always, and full of great advice…”

“Really? This is Maia we’re talking about, right?”

To his surprise, Miles actually _laughed_ , but it was short-lived. His expression fell, as he began to fidget slightly in his seat, leaning his head against the door. He looked distant, upset--

“Hey… are you alright?” Scott asked.

Miles was doing that thing he always did-- shoulders drawn in, hunched over, and playing with the hem of his sleeves. He always looked so small, frail, and helpless when he did that-- only further fueling Scott’s desire to reach over, to place a comforting hand on his thigh, or better yet-- pull him into a tight embrace.

“I thought I was going to die, when they threw that fucking bag over my head,” Miles replied, clearly in more shock than he probably realised. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and, well, I have to ask… I mean, you were the last person I was expecting to see walk in there.”

Why would he think that? How could he possibly think that he would just leave him to be--

Wait. Hold up-- Miles was _thinking_ about him? In what way? 

And he… really thought he would leave him there? Alone? After everything?

Scott realised too late that his lack of response was probably not making Miles feel any better about the situation.

“I mean-- _why_ would you come back for me? They could have killed me for all you know, which would make your life-- _my_ life-- just peachy. I’m sure getting me out the picture would just… you know… make things easier for you...”

Miles trailed off, and Scott noted his rather common habit of talking about himself as if he was no better than a pile of dirt.

But he made a point, although-- _what_ kind life would that leave him with, if that were the case? As much as he loved what their life was, all those weeks ago… so many things had changed. He’d finally seen that he didn’t truly want the life he had, that there was so much more to do, so many new things to see.

And most importantly, someone he could actually connect with, and maybe even--

“I don’t get it-- _why?”_ Miles emphasised.

Scott wanted nothing more than to come clean to him at that moment, tell him everything, finally get it all off his chest-- but he’d had a rough enough day already. They both had. It could wait.

 _You mean far more to me than you realise,_ he wanted to say. 

But now was not the time for that.

Deflection was his best option.

“What kind of boring life would I have without you around to annoy me?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, we’ll talk later. For now, let’s get you home.”

Miles appeared perplexed, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t buy his answer at all, but he needed to focus on getting the two of them home. This entire day had been nothing but one huge, ongoing disaster, and he was so fucking _tired_ , wanting nothing more that for it to end already.

Scott spent every ounce of his energy focusing on the road ahead, hands tightening around the steering wheel. He could see Miles flinching every now and again, as he appeared to be dozing off, only to jolt awake every few minutes.

As soon as they were behind closed doors, Scott couldn’t hold back any longer-- pulling Miles into a tight hug, and holding him as close as he could. He was expecting resistance; to be pushed away-- but he couldn’t help himself. He was so scared, and he knew Miles was even moreso, given today’s events.

When Miles hugged him back, he felt his heart stop. Scott was right, he was upset, so perhaps this would help him feel just a little bit safer.

“I’d say that’s enough excitement for one day,” he said softly, ushering the other man towards the bedroom. “You should get some rest.”

Miles kicked off his shoes in a lazy manner, before collapsing on the bed. After the events from the last few hours, it was a miracle he was still awake. Scott still felt uneasy about their whole ordeal, and decided to take some extra precautions before he called it a night-- double checking every room, door and window to make sure they were safe.

He was satisfied that this would be the end of their encounters with whoever those people were, but there was also the possibility that other people knew, and might come after them in the same manner. Provided that they kept their backstories in sync, and records checked out, they would be safe.

When Scott returned to the bedroom, Miles already appeared to be in a deep sleep. He was only half way under the covers, with the bedside lamp still illuminating his tired features. Scott’s hand lingered on the off switch, and for reasons unknown to him, he spent a few more moments staring at Miles. Considering their unexpected ventures today and the increased level of stress and anxiety caused to them both, Miles looked surprisingly content when he slept.

A stray curl of unkempt hair was resting on his forehead, and Scott softly brushed the hair from his face in a gesture he didn’t even realise he was doing. He quickly recoiled back when he caught on-- and Miles stirred before him, rolling over onto his side.

Scott wanted to kiss him. But he couldn’t. He knew it was a bad idea-- entertaining the fucked up delusions in his head. If he crossed that line, he knew that neither of them would ever be able to go back to what they have now.

The two of them sharing a bed wasn’t entirely out of the question, but last time, he’d managed to get away before Miles had noticed him. Scott shook his head, not caring of the repercussions at this point, quickly slipping into bed next to him. If Miles didn’t want him there, he made no move to kick him out. He’d stay, just for a little while, until he was confident that Miles was asleep.

This man next to him, once a reflection of all the things he couldn’t stand about himself, a constant reminder of his failings-- was now the most important person in the world to him. 

Without him, they were both nothing.

In those earlier moments, when Scott was convinced that he would never see Miles again, he knew his feelings were running too deep, and he knew he was fucked. But he couldn’t contain himself any longer. Which was why he had a plan-- he needed to be sure of his feelings, and how Miles felt as well-- and there was only one way he could comprehend resolving this.

The thought of what was to come terrified him, but he was running out of options, and sanity waning thin. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Miles, so he’d need to plan his next move carefully.

This felt right to him-- the two of them, together, taking care of each other. Scott didn’t want anything to change, but if he didn’t come clean to Miles - in one way or another - he was afraid he’d end up hurting him, and certain he’d end up regretting it for the rest of his life.


	3. I hurt you

Scott was up early, unable to find rest, mind clouded with thoughts and fears after the events of the previous day. He sat on the end of the bed, looking back at Miles, still snoring softly as if he’d been deprived of sleep for days. It would be best for him to remain undisturbed, at least for a little while longer. Scott still had unfinished business to attend to in the meantime.

After his confident speech yesterday in front of the people who kidnapped Miles, there was no telling  _ when _ or _ if _ they’d actually look up his records again. Not only that, but he still needed to get his hands on a birth certificate in the least, from there he could sort the rest of his identity out by himself.

Shutting the door of the bedroom as quietly as he could, Scott moved to the couch in the lounge room, taking a moment to relax his nerves. He took in a deep breath, holding it briefly, and reaching across the table for his wallet. As he exhaled, he flipped through the various cards, until he found the one he was searching for.

Once the number was input into his phone, his thumb hesitated above the call button for a moment. This guy, whoever he was, would want to be paid for such a service-- but Scott couldn’t even imagine how much it might cost. He took a moment to check their bank account instead, finding it rather devoid of savings, with the exception of the money they managed to get back from the botched spa treatment.

It would have to do.

The phone call was awkward, and surprisingly brief. Very little information was asked of him, and after a brief haggle on the price, Scott promptly transferred the money through. It was expensive, and just as he’d initially guessed-- it drained their savings. He was certain that Miles would protest at the spending, but he could deal with that confrontation later. 

Apparently a week was all it was going to take, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel more or less nervous. He’d finally have no excuse to stay here, to not make something of himself, and he wasn’t entirely sure what that would mean for his future. But it might at least grant him some of the individuality that he was sorely lacking since coming into existence.

Scott threw his phone to the side, leaning back and relaxing into the couch. He still felt so on-edge, ever since yesterday-- and even after the brief sleep he’d managed to get, he still felt like shit. He kept waking up in shock, disoriented, panicking-- until he’d look at Miles, realise that they were safe, and sleep for a few more minutes.

Seeing Miles like that, back there-- hands tied, face twisted in fear… it scared him, and weighed on his mind.

Even now he felt a heavy burden on his chest, feelings uneasy and questioning, finding a whole new realm of possibilities available to him now. It was a reality he never expected, one he’d never planned for-- and it terrified him.

Scott shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He was getting nothing done sitting around here with his thoughts. He jumped to his feet, hastily putting on his sneakers, swiping his keys off the table, and heading out the door.

Maybe some fresh air would do him good.

* * *

Miles awoke in complete disorientation, nearly falling out of the bed as he struggled to grasp his bearings. After the momentary panic faded, he realised he was back in the apartment he shared with his clone. However he also noted he was now alone. He remained on the bed, feeling too lazy and sore to emerge from the warmth. Unfortunately he wasn’t comfortable for long, as his stomach protested for food, which he could no longer ignore.

He took a brief glance of himself in the mirror, noting his dishevelled state with a shrug. Getting dressed was overrated anyway. Breakfast was all he cared about at this point; but his mind had other plans. 

Miles still wouldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened yesterday, feeling as if he’d been given a second chance. Having a clone was no joke-- they’d both have to be more careful in future, to protect each other, and not just themselves.

Arriving in the kitchen, he let out a long yawn, before starting on coffee, followed by just about anything else he could find-- bacon, eggs, toast, and even pancakes because he was fucking starving now and felt like he could devour an entire days worth of food 

He wasn’t sure when, but he zoned out at some point; nearly burning everything on the stovetop in the process, cursing under his breath. 

Miles’ eyes flickered to his phone, using it to check the time. It was already rather late in the morning, and he was beginning to worry. Scott hadn’t left so much as a note, and all the negative thoughts started seeping into his mind, doubts fueling his anxiety. Being left alone in his own fucking apartment should  _ not _ make him feel as nervous as he was right now. 

Something was seriously wrong with him.

The familiar sound of the front door opening and closing caught his ear, causing him to sigh in relief, knowing he’d no longer be here alone.

“Hey,” Miles greeted, without dragging his eyes away from what he was doing. “Where have you been?”

There was no immediate response, which caused a rather sudden spark of anxiety, worried that it was not who he thought it was. But Miles didn’t have a chance to turn around, before he saw an arm reach out to his side, a hand on the counter-- and another resting gently on his hip. Miles stopped breathing momentarily, surprised by the rather intimate gesture, but he could tell who it was without glancing away. 

A deep intake of breath causes him to flinch involuntarily. 

“Smells good,” his clone finally commented softly, pulling back. “Leave some for me.”

With that said, Scott disappeared into the next room, door closing behind him with a click. Miles stared at the food sizzling in front of him, eye wide and mind completely stunned. It was such a simple, unassuming gesture, and yet-- it made him feel... cared for, wanted,  _ needed _ \-- 

Miles shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts before he started sounding any more like a teenager. A hand fumbled to his cheek, feeling the warmth beneath it. Was he...  _ blushing _ ? No, that wasn’t it. He was simply overheating, it was warm in here after all. Right?

He huffed, pinching his brow, and trying his best to focus on the task at hand. It was just a simple, calming gesture, and nothing more-- this was not the time to overthink such ridiculous notions. 

* * *

Scott leaned up against the bedroom door, cursing under his breath.

That was close-- the fuck had he been thinking? The sight in front of him had caught him completely off guard, and no ounce of control could allow Scott to tear his eyes away from the other man. Before he knew it, his hands were moving on their own. To anyone else, it was nothing more than a sad, recently divorced man making breakfast. 

But to Scott, it was a temptation.

Miles had been in the kitchen, cooking-- a totally normal occurrence in their shared apartment-- but this was  _ different _ . Even staring at him from the back, his instincts and desires overwhelmed him instantly. Miles had barely put any effort into his appearance since he’d awoken, hair still a mess and poking at odd angles, yesterday’s musky shirt still hanging awkwardly off his shoulders, complete with nothing more than a pair of black briefs and a brightly coloured apron.

It was a sight to behold, and one that made Scott want to reach out and touch-- which he did, much to his surprise. Even in that brief moment beside Miles, he couldn’t stop staring at the nape of his neck. For reasons unknown to him, he was tempted to bite it. He could have stayed there, held Miles there, trapped between himself and the countertop. He could wrap his hands around him, bite into his neck, and--

Scott made a pained sound as his fingers dug into his arm, begging him to calm down and get ahold of himself. He was thankful he found the willpower to pull back when he did, otherwise--

“You okay?” Miles asked with concern, voice muffled through the door, nearly scaring Scott half to death. “Do you need--”

“No, no. I’m good,” he interrupted, surprised by the sudden conversation. “I’ll just-- be out in a minute.”

Scott was breathing heavily, placing a hand on his chest in the hope he’d be able to calm down. His legs were complaining about being upright, instead choosing to slide down the door, coming to a rest on the ground. He tilted his head back, wiping his forehead and taking a deep breath. 

He’d rest there just long enough to get his shit together.

Eyes closed, Scott focused on the muffled sound from the kitchen, stomach rumbling as the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with sizzling bacon made his mouth water. Filled with new found motivation, he made an attempt to change, and become somewhat presentable for the day. It was still early, and he had much to do before the weekend was over.

Peering around the corner, he found Miles setting the table, humming softly to himself, yet still appearing exhausted. Scott pulled out a chair, looking to Miles to compliment his work-- until something caught his eye, words dying in his throat. His arms shot out across the table, latching onto Miles so abruptly he heard him yelp in surprise. He pulled Miles’ hand close to him, taking a closer look at his arms.

They were bruised; a deep purple, most prominently showing around the wrist bone. He could feel how Miles tensed beneath his grasp-- after everything they’d been through the previous day. But the state of his wrists... Scott couldn’t help the anger building inside his chest at the sight. He hated how it caused Miles to flinch, he hated how he’d been completely on-edge since they’d gotten back home-- he hated  _ himself  _ for letting it happen in the first place.

Miles pulled out of his grasp, averting his eyes. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’m sure they’ll go away in a few days.”

Scott grimaced, but wasn’t sure what else to say. He was certain that the kidnapping, albeit brief, had caused more damage to Miles both mentally _ and _ physically-- than he’d care to admit. It wasn’t something Scott was going to press.

He couldn’t bear to see Miles hurt again because of him. But if Miles said he was okay… then he’d keep his distance.

* * *

Miles wasn’t used to such silence in their apartment, especially when both of them were present. It was almost eerie, in a way. Scott hadn’t said much since breakfast. He was sitting on the couch, eyes wide and unfocused. Whatever he was thinking about, it had certainly made him zone out enough to not even notice Miles was there, his previous questions remaining unanswered.

“You alright?” Miles asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you just enjoying the view?”

His clone blinked, turning to him with a dazed expression. “Huh?”

“I’m going to the shops,” Miles stated, pulling off his apron and folding it up nearly. “Do you need anything?”

Scott snapped out of it, rising to his feet. “Sure,” he replied, taking a moment to consider. “Mind if I tag along?”

Miles shrugged, his brief smile enough of an answer. He hadn’t planned on going anywhere fancy, only down to the local shops. It was close enough to home as to not make him feel anxious being outside of the safety of his room.

Browsing through the food isles, Miles knew that his current diet was terrible, even with him now being responsible for dinner and the groceries in general. He’d never been much of a chef, and every time he’d wind up in the store, surrounded by hundreds of different products, his mind would go blank, overwhelmed by choices. He’d wing it this time, but he knew his clone would protest, urging him to be more organised next time.

A hand on his shoulder caused him to flinch violently, catching him off guard, nearly dropping the contents of his hands over the floor. He spun around, eyes wide. He was still rather tense from the fucking disaster that was yesterday-- so he couldn’t help his reaction. He still wasn’t convinced that he was off the hook just yet., not knowing what other kinds of people could be after them.

His mind screeched to a halt, coming face to face with someone who he didn’t recognise at all, but who appeared to know him rather well.

“Hey, it’s good to see you!” The young man exclaimed with a kind smile. “How have you been?”

Miles froze on the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. He assessed his surroundings, but there was no one else near him. He was the only one in the isle, and there most certainly was no one else to be found. This guy was speaking directly to him, and yet his identity remained a mystery.

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping him back to reality. 

“You alright?” He asked with a look of concern. “You don’t look so good.”

Miles took a step back on instinct, eyeing carefully. He was completely lost, and afraid that he was beginning to lose his mind. Feelings of anxiety and confusion were overwhelming him, and all he could think about was where the hell his clone was when he needed him.

This could be a trap for all he knew.

“Do I know you?” Miles finally replied, feeling just a  _ little bit _ guilty if his memory truly was as bad as he thought it was. 

He received an offended look in return, and Miles was beginning to think he may have just pissed off this stranger for the worse. 

The young man opened his mouth to respond, before they were both interrupted but a ruckus behind them.

“Miles--” Scott called from the distance. He turned to follow the voice, finding his clone walking blindly forward, checking through everything he was holding. “Did we get any--” He finally looked up at the man next to Miles, a silence falling as the two of them shared a rather surprised expression.

In the blink of an eye, Scott dragged the other man away rather abruptly, leaving Miles both surprised and speechless. Could that-- could he possibly be the person that his clone had gone out to see that night? On a _ date? _

Miles wouldn’t exactly say he was  _ straight _ , he’d just always found women easier to get along with, in the romantic sense. Even with his attraction to men, he found it hard to admit. Yet there his clone was; seeing another man without so much as a hesitation. Miles could never imagine himself as brave or carefree as that. 

But it still didn’t make sense; Scott hadn’t spoken about his date since that night, nor had he been acting like someone who was actively  _ dating _ . There was something missing, he was sure of it. No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense. This guy seemed nice enough, and he knew his clone was far more interested in ‘moving on’ than he was, but still-- he wasn’t the type to have a fling.

“Hey,” Scott said, appearing beside him unexpectedly, snapping him from his thoughts. A hand curled around Miles’ arm, tugging him gently. “Let’s go.”

Miles simply nodded, noting the changed demeanour. It was only a few minutes ago that his clone was rather chipper, much to his surprise; and yet within the last few minutes, something had changed. He couldn’t help but feel that Scott was in a bad mood, and Miles had no idea if it was his fault or not.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was start another fight. He simply didn’t have that kind of energy left in him anymore.

* * *

As if Scott wasn’t having a bad enough day already; this was the absolute worst possible scenario that he could be a part of in this very moment. He was not prepared mentally to even comprehend how he was going to deal with this in the least awkward way possible.

“Elias?” Scott stumbled, trying his best to smile. “Did I... not mention that I had a twin?”

The other man’s unamused expression was enough of an answer, and Scott already knew he was bullshitting. This wasn’t the time for that; he just needed to man up and admit the truth. 

One brief admission and embarrassing conversation later, they said goodbye, leaving on good terms. Scott finally let out a breath he was holding in, allowing himself a moment to relax. 

This whole fucking week was starting to get to him. Scott had never felt so irritated, frustrated and anxious in his life; all culminating into one huge shitty mood. He was so over feeling like this, and at this point, wanted nothing more than to get home, take a long shower, and completely turn off his mind.

He needed some time alone with his thoughts. He still had a lot to work out.

Reaching the car, Scott was dreading the conversation to follow, knowing the rather awkward elephant in the room needing to be addressed. He just hoped Miles would be smart enough to keep it to himself.

“So you  _ were _ on a date the other night,” Miles hummed. Of course he couldn’t ignore it, that would have been too easy. “No wonder I was so confused. Maybe we should--”

“Look,” Scott turned in his seat, interrupting him with an unimpressed expression, one hand firmly on the steering wheel. “I’m actually putting myself out there and trying to move on. To find an  _ ounce _ of happiness. If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”

Dead silence fell, Miles snapping his mouth shut momentarily. “I-- I didn’t mean--”

“Then perhaps you should learn to move on before judging me for who I decide to date. Better than drinking myself into a coma every night.”

Scott regretted the words as soon as they escaped his lips. The shock eventually faded from the other man’s eyes, as if it were a truth not worth denying. He didn’t even have a chance to apologise before Miles spoke.

“Yeah,” Miles replied, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right.”

Now he knew he’d royally fucked up.

Scott placed both hands firmly on the wheel, using all his self control to focus on the road ahead. He wanted to do nothing more than apologise, to pull Miles into a tight embrace, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, and that everything was going to be okay--

But he couldn’t. He hated every word he said, he hated keeping Miles distant, but it was for good reason. Miles needed to be independent, he needed to hate him-- it was for the best.

Scott just needed to keep Miles at arm’s length. 

For now. 

Until he figured this shit out.

* * *

Miles had felt a shift between them, a tension building since the night he was kidnapped. He felt that he’d done something or said something out of line, but whatever it was, he thought it would be best to apologise regardless. He didn’t want to be on bad terms, and he didn’t want to fight-- if anything, he’d thought they were beginning to make progress together, even after what they’d been through together.

What had just taken place had only further damaged their already fragile relationship.

Everything was falling apart around him.

He thought it best not to speak any further during the car trip home. It was awkward, no doubt about it-- but he was tired, upset, and getting to the point where he didn’t give a shit anymore. If his clone was mad at him, he probably deserved it anyway. That was what he was good at-- being the cause of problems, whether they were his own or not didn’t seem to matter.

“Miles…” Scott started, breaking the silence between them. “I’m sorry about before, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“No, no-- it’s fine,” Miles replied, trying his best not to look as sad as he felt. “I crossed a line. I’ll be more aware of your personal boundaries in the future.”

Scott was an individual, he was his own person, with his own future. If Miles continued relying on him, he’d never be able to live for himself, and he’d wind up drowning in guilt and regret. It was one thing to ruin his own life, he wasn’t going to let his clone suffer the same fate at his own hands.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Miles offered, gesturing around their apartment. “Like you said, you have your own identity now. You can have some fun. Start a new life.” It was a fact; at the end of the day, they were two different people. “There’s nothing keeping you here. Don’t let me hold you back.”

The following silence was the only answer Miles required. His clone was clearly considering his proposition; and now all he could do was wait for the inevitable agreement.

“You know I can’t do that,” Scott replied, taking a step forward.

Miles tensed, hands together, pulling on his sleeves in that nervous habit of his. “...Why?” he asked cautiously, only now meeting the clone’s gaze.

“You’re in no state to be left alone. But if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just tell me you don’t need me. Tell me you’ll be fine on your own. Then I’ll consider it.”

Miles felt like his emotional walls were practically invisible around Scott. How could he see through him so easily? He couldn’t say yes, but he couldn’t deny it either.

“Keep in mind,” Scott continued with a brief smirk. “I can tell when you’re lying.” 

“I’m not a child,” he replied bitterly. “I don’t need you to look after me.”

Miles knew there was more to this conversation, but with that said, he couldn’t bear to look at the other man, turning around, and heading down the hall. 

“Miles--” Scott started, following him, even though he thought it was obvious that he needed to be alone right now.

“You have nothing holding you here,” Miles added, standing in the bedroom doorway. “Don’t worry about me and what I’m doing. I’ll figure that shit out on my own.”

Regardless of what he said, words repeated itself, like a mantra, his mind-- words that would never be said in the open. It represented nothing but his inability to be a stable working adult, a culmination of fear and anxieties, and needing to rely on someone else to keep his world spinning. He was undeniably selfish.

_ Stay. _

_ Stay here. _

_ Please don’t leave me-- _

Miles could hear the soft breathing of his clone behind him, making the hair on his neck stand on end. He flinched as a hand rested gently on his shoulder, as he let it turn him around. Their eyes met, and Miles was at a loss for words, staring at the sadness and sincerity in the eyes of his clone.

“Miles… I’m here because I want to be,” Scott confessed. “I don’t want to leave.”

* * *

Three days.

Dan had spent three fucking days hanging outside the front of Miles’ house, in his car, as inconspicuously as possible. At no point had Miles shown up-- not even  _ once _ . For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out  _ why _ .

Where the hell could he possibly be? Dan was positive that he lived here. He knew Kate, he’d met her on several occasions-- and he’d definitely seen her coming in and out of the house. Miles had still been turning up to work every day, as far as he could tell, so the only other option that left... was that he’d been staying  _ somewhere else _ . 

Could it be possible that Miles’ marriage had ended, and not only had he kept a straight face, but he didn’t even tell anyone about it? That didn’t sound right. He’d become familiar enough with Miles over the years to know what he was like, how much he cherished his marriage-- or at least… he  _ thought _ he knew Miles all this time.

There must be more to this situation than he could see from here.

Dan sighed, leaning against the car door. It was getting late. He’d have to head home soon, before anyone became too suspicious of his constant lingering. He startled at the lights of another car heading around the corner of the street, instinctively ducking down as it passed. His eyes followed it, watching as it parked in the driveway of Miles’ house. This new development immediately piqued his interest, face pressed against the window as he struggled to get a better look at who it was. 

From what he could tell at this distance, it was Kate. No surprise there. But what  _ did  _ surprise him, was that she wasn’t alone this time. She was with someone else. A man, most likely. But not Miles. A person he didn’t recognise. The two of them looked… rather close. He held her hand, walked her to the door, and shared a kiss before going inside.

Okay… What the fuck was happening right now? 

Perhaps his earlier conclusion was correct-- they must have split up. But if that were true, Miles would have certainly been acting different at work. Technically, he  _ had _ been; but he was more outgoing and cheery than ever, not sad or depressed… unless  _ he _ was the one who initiated the break up.

Dan chuckled at the thought, shaking his head. No, there was absolutely no way Miles would go through with something like that without good reason. There was something else to this situation, something he was missing; a piece to this puzzle that would make sense of everything. 

He needed to find it.

Dan pinched his brow in frustration, his patience wearing thin. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. All he could conclude from this was that Miles was definitely living somewhere else, and not here.

There was no use sticking around any longer. 

He’d need to figure out a new plan.

* * *

The only good thing about work at this point was how quickly it could make the week fly by.

It was finally Friday afternoon, and Scott was completely exhausted. There had been nothing but drama lately, and office politics, and he’d had enough of all of it. He couldn’t believe that Dan had been fired so abruptly, and on top of that, he was now in charge of helping find a replacement. It felt almost comical, and definitely out of Scott’s range of care at this point.

He just wanted to head home, eat some dinner that he  _ prayed _ Miles had already made, and get an early night’s rest. Preferably with as little contact with the other man as possible. His head was still a mess, especially after the whole  _ kidnapping  _ debacle, and time alone to think was what he craved more than anything.

If only it would be so easy.

When Scott’s car came into his view, he knew his day had gone from bad, to worse. There, leaning against the hood of his car, was a very familiar and disgruntled looking woman.

Their encounter was overdue to occur, but he was not in the mood to deal with this right now. If anything, all three of them should be together to talk this out-- especially the divorce proceedings. The friendlier he was right now, the quicker they could get this over with.

“Kate,” he stated, implying several different emotions of distaste from his tone. “How nice to see you here.”

She looked over to him, a smile briefly flickering across her face before disappearing. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, until he reached the car, only standing a few feet from her. 

“You’re not Miles.”

Scott stopped dead in his tracks. That stung. He bit his lip to stop the foul retort from escaping his tongue.

“Yes, I am,” he clarified.

“You know what I mean.”

Scott suppressed and eye roll. “Do I?” He asked. 

“Your phone number is no longer in service.” Kate huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re making it difficult to get in contact, I had no other choice than to come here.”

“Jeez, I wonder why…” Scott replied sarcastically. 

He wouldn’t say he was particularly mad, but he was frustrated-- at himself, at his feelings, at Kate--  _ everything _ . It was beginning to show.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” Kate said. “For the last few days. To talk.”

Scott leaned against the car door. “I’m listening.” He shrugged, unimpressed.

“I want to talk to Miles.”

Of course she did, because apparently, being an exact clone of someone meant you had nothing to do with that person at all. 

What a joke.

“You missed your chance. But you can talk to me,” he offered. “Let me guess-- divorce papers, right? Or have you changed your mind after all?”

Scott didn’t mean to sound so smug, but he couldn’t help himself-- his feelings had become so confused and twisted over the last few weeks, including how he felt about his soon-to-be ex-wife. 

It wasn’t the break-up that made him feel this way-- it was how it had affected  _ Miles _ . She still had no idea how much it hurt him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Kate get to him before he was ready for that confrontation.

“Don’t give me that shit-- this is between me and Miles, not you.”

“What are you on about? I  _ am _ Miles. We both are,” he shot back, clearly aggravated. “The answer is still no.  _ Miles _ will talk to you if  _ and _ when he’s ready.”

Kate stood her ground, but her frustration was obvious. “This is such bullshit,” she muttered, turning her back on him.

“Guess you should have answered his calls when you had the chance.”

Her demeanor changed, expression softening. “I needed time.” She crossed her arms, looking back at him. “To think. About everything.”

“So did we, and we’re doing much better now because of it.”

“You don’t  _ really  _ mean that--”

“Don’t I?” The last ounce of patience Scott had finally dissipated, frustration erupting forth. “What are you even trying to achieve here? You want to beg for forgiveness, take him back?”

There it was-- a truth he didn’t want to admit to himself. He was afraid of Miles leaving. He was shocked by his own words and admission. 

“No, I-- I just... want to talk.” Kate took a step back. “We’re still married, legally I mean. There’s… quite a bit we need to discuss.”

Scott had no idea when his feelings towards Kate had shifted so violently. There was a time when they were happy, when he treasured her and loved her dearly, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

But that person he fell for no longer existed, same with the man he once was. There was nothing that could save that relationship, not after how much they’d both changed over the years. He wondered if Miles felt the same.

In fact, Scott had no idea how Miles even felt about Kate now. He’d been silent on the subject and his feelings. Was he still silently grieving and longing? Was he filled with anger and hatred? It was hard to tell through his blank expressions and drunken evenings.

“But just because we broke up doesn’t mean I want him out of my life.”

Scott took a deep breath, letting out a sigh. He contemplated her request briefly, knowing she was right. At the end of the day, Kate had hurt both of them-- Scott could deal with his own issue, but Miles-- well, he wasn’t sure if Miles was in the best headspace for this confrontation just yet. 

He knew he was being overly protective, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure he didn’t turn into a completely smothering mess-- Miles was still as independent as he was. He didn’t need protecting. But it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be there for one another.

“I know... I’d like to be as civil about this situation as possible,” Scott said. “But we still need some more time. Please respect that.”

He threw open the car door, throwing his bag onto the passenger seat and climbing in after it.

“You can’t deal with Miles without me included. We’re a pair.” The engine flared to life, as he rolled down the window. “When we’re both ready, we’ll talk.”

Kate turned to him and gave him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Alright. Well... you know where to find me.”

* * *

The following afternoon, Dan snooped in the parking lot of the place he once worked--  _ no thanks to Miles _ . He turned off the engine, tore open a packet of potato chips, and waited. Patience had never been his strong suit, but he’d be damned if he didn’t do something,  _ anything _ , to get some closure.

He eyed the clock, noting it was nearly five. That was the usual time Miles finished and headed home-- and just like clockwork, there he was, the cheery bastard. Dan sat up, bracing himself as he moved into a driving position. His eyes continued to follow the other man, watching him walk to his vehicle, and--

A familiar woman leaned against the hood of Miles’ car, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He looked ridged, and upset-- which only further piqued Dan’s interest in the situation at hand.

He was at too far a distance to understand their conversation, but the body language spoke enough. It was clear that they were having a fight of some sort, but it was brief, thankfully. As soon as Miles had left the parking lot, Dan was behind him; remaining at a distance so as to not appear suspicious.

Dan continued to follow Miles for the next half an hour. By this point, he was beginning to have doubts that he was following the correct car, yet time and time again he’d checked the registration, and it was the same - without a doubt.

Just when he was about to give up and go home, the car pulled into a small apartment block, after what felt like an eternity. Dan made note, and drove a little further down the road, parking his car inconspicuously and racing back to the building, careful to be as quiet as possible.

There he was-- Miles. He collected his bag from the front seat, pulling it over his shoulder, and locking up. He stood there for another moment, looking around himself briefly, before heading into the building. 

But that wasn’t all. While Miles fumbled around the front door to one of the apartments, Dan noticed something intriguing. There was a large window on that side of the building, and although it was dark-- yes, he was sure of it-- Miles’ brother was there, in the living room.

Why the hell were the two of them living together? Unless Miles truly  _ had _ broken up with his wife, and had nowhere else left to go. If that were the case, he was impressed with how  _ normal _ Miles had been acting-- as far as Dan was aware, he and his brother weren’t on the best of terms, only raising more questions to this entire scenario.

As sad as that was, Dan wasn’t giving up on his purpose for being there. He’d confront them at some point, but for now, he’d continue to wait. All he needed was a slip up to get the perfect black mailing evidence - to finally get back at Miles for ruining his life.

Then he’d finally be able to exact revenge.

* * *

The unexpected confrontation with Kate had made Scott’s already stressful day even worse. All he wanted to do was collapse on the couch, and expel all thoughts from his mind, finding everything in his life too difficult to handle at the current moment. Nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow to deal with-- at least, that’s what he’d keep telling himself.

Arriving home, he startled in front of the apartment door, foot stepping on something unfamiliar on the ground. He pulled back, squinting in the darkness, and reaching for the letter on the doorstep. He moved to the light of the nearby street lamp, using it to inspect the package. It appeared heavy, and unmarked, only further piquing his curiosity and nerves concurrently. 

Then he remembered-- this was exactly what he’d ordered. He’d nearly forgotten about it with everything else going on in his life.

Scott ripped it open, taking a brief peek inside, and pulling out the first thing he could get his hands on. It was his very own license, complete with his address, new name, and a photograph to match. It was odd to look at, but it was just another aspect of his new life to get used to.

He continued through the contents, finding more and more evidence of his existence-- a birth certificate, passport, and various bills and reports giving him a fictional life from school until now. Whoever this guy was, and however he managed to make this possible… Scott could say he was quite impressed.

Scott quickly packed everything away, slipping it under his arm and making his way back to the front door. It was getting late; the sun had disappeared at some point on the journey home, shrouding the outside in darkness. 

Opening the door to their apartment, it appeared much the same, the only light source coming from the laptop in front of Miles, who was tapping away on the couch. He looked tired, more so than usual, a collection of empty beer bottles surrounding him.

“How are you doing?” Scott asked, kicking off his shoes, and throwing the envelope on the table. “You look like shit.”

Miles turned to stare at him, eyes unfocused. “Thanks. It’s a new look I’m trying out,” he replied sarcastically.

Scott chuckled. “At least your sense of humour hasn’t died yet. You still gotta make sure you get some sleep, though.”

Miles’ expression softened, and he looked away. A hand shot out to close his laptop as he let out a concerned sigh. There was something on his mind, no doubt keeping him awake.

“When you came to get me, that day-- I’ve been thinking about what you said, and your cover story. But... was it just a bluff? What are you going to do if they actually  _ do  _ try to look up your records?”

“Oh, easy. It’s all been sorted,” Scott replied, pointing to the set of documents he’d just received. “These just came in the mail. Fake records for… just about everything, I think. Surprisingly thorough. I don’t think that’ll be an issue anymore.”

Scott thought he’d be happy, or optimistic, or  _ something _ \-- but he just felt more doubt. Even when he spoke about it, and stared at his very own, very real license… He knew that he now had no excuse to not live his own life. Now he could make something of himself. 

“How the hell did you manage  _ that _ ?” Miles asked in disbelief, taking the envelope and staring inside.

“I, uh… went back to the spa the other day,” he replied hesitantly. “They didn’t appreciate me being there, but they were nice enough to put me in contact with someone else, who could, you know-- set me up with this.”

“Hm, well that’s… actually a pretty good idea…” Miles stated, flipping through the documents. “This is pretty thorough.”

Scott nodded, placing a hand behind his neck. “It’s just-- well, unfortunately it did cost me a bit of our savings… but you understand, right?”

Miles blinked, tilting his head. “If it means you can be independent, sure. I don’t see a problem.”

That was surprisingly easy.

“Maybe now I can get my own job,” Scott hummed, placing a hand on his chin. “You can finally go back to work and we can get our own place each. “

“Y-yeah,” Miles agreed, appearing to falter-- but he couldn’t be certain. “Sounds great.”

Even though he’d never admit it out loud, Scott wasn’t sure he could live alone, at least not yet. But he was sure Miles would get sick of him eventually, and perhaps the additional space between them would give them both time to adjust to their new life. It wasn’t as if they could live together like this  _ forever _ .

He took a seat next to Miles, relaxing into the comfort of the couch. He placed a hand on the other man’s back on instinct, moving it around in gentle circles. Miles hummed softly at the gesture, shoulder relaxing, and eyes fluttering. 

Scott wasn’t sure what to do next, but he thought it best to get Miles to bed, before he passed out. It would do him good to have an early night and some decent rest. Maybe Scott could sleep on the couch again, to make sure he didn’t disturb him. 

It would be best if they were on good terms, especially after his regrettable outburst earlier in the week. Perhaps now wasn’t a good time to say something about the thoughts plaguing his mind. His timing was always the worst. He really needed to be more organised, to actually set a time and place, to plan it. Now that it was Friday, the weekend would hopefully give him enough time.

“Come on,” he said, placing a hand on Miles’ shoulder. “Let’s get you to--”

Miles collapsed on him with a mumble, and Scott tipped over involuntarily; finding Miles on his chest, sound asleep within a matter of seconds. He hummed softly as his breathing evened out, a hand gently attached to the front of Scott’s shirt.

After the initial shock passed, Scott stared at the incredibly tired man on him, his scruffy hair falling into his eyes, dark circles underneath them, and stubble getting out of hand. He couldn’t deny that he thought he was cute, only further cementing his feelings. There was something seriously wrong with him. But his only question-- would Miles feel the same? He couldn’t live with himself any longer if he didn’t.

As he laid there, holding the man he cared for in his arms, Scott thought through a multitude of different scenarios in his head. There had to be an easy way to admit his feelings to Miles, and he knew he needed to get this out sooner rather than later.

He could simply drop it on him, in the middle of the conversation, or dinner, or during another television marathon-- but he  _ knew _ Miles. Of course he knew Miles. He’d know how he’d react to such a statement, especially from the likes of his own clone. 

Even if there was a slim chance that Miles would accept him, and his feelings - Scott knew that Miles would deny it, or simply ignore it, or make up excuses to how it wouldn’t or couldn’t be true. He knew that regardless of his reaction, he would be filled with nothing but more pain and sorrow.

Scott could deal with those feelings himself. But Miles… the last thing Scott wanted to do was to cause him any more pain, not after everything he’d gone through.

After his earlier interaction with Kate, Scott still couldn’t bring himself to tell Miles about it. He wondered what he’d say, considering he was the topic of their conversation. He wasn’t even certain what Kate wanted-- for all he knew, she could just be looking for an address to send divorce papers to, or worse--

There was a chance she could still love him, and want to get back together. That was something he knew Miles wouldn’t say no to.  _ Of course _ Miles would want to return home to his wife. It was only natural… he still had feelings for her, Scott was certain. He probably still wanted to make things work. But Miles had been with Kate for over ten years, and they were no closer to the life they wanted now than they had back then. It could only end in more disaster

There was no future there, for Miles  _ or  _ Scott. Fuck it. What was the point of any of this? 

Scott became more frustrated the longer he thought about it. This entire situation was hopeless. All he was doing at this point was desperately grasping to the small ounce of happiness he’d found since moving out, and yet… he felt it coming to an end sooner than he thought.

Miles should have let him die in the first place, then neither of them would be in this situation. He couldn’t continue to suffer like this alone. Scott wanted to be closer; he craved it, longed for it-- but he didn’t want to hurt him, even though he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control himself. 

What if he went overboard? What if Miles began to hate him, or became afraid of him? What if Miles never wanted to see him again?

Scott couldn’t deal with that. He had no one else in his life. He’d have no one else to turn to. He’d be all alone. He couldn’t do that. 

He was in love with Miles. He wanted him all to himself, in every sense-- body, mind and soul. That was the entire problem of his existence-- he had no right to ask for anything, let alone something to that extreme.

This feeling, the thought of being alone again… he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do  _ any  _ of this anymore. He couldn’t live a life without Miles. He couldn’t explain why, and he couldn’t understand it either.

Even cradling him in his arms; the one person he wanted, the one person he  _ needed _ \-- was out of reach, and always would be. Miles would be safer with him gone, so he was going to savour this moment. It was the end of the line for him, so he was enjoying this while he could-- the last time he’d ever have a chance to hold the man he cared for in his arms.

Sleep was beginning to take hold, beckoning him into a restless slumber. With a rather somber thought, Scott hoped he’d never wake up.

* * *

Miles felt surprisingly well-rested for someone generally unable to sleep more than an hour or two without being awoken by nightmares. He wasn’t even sure when he became so restless, as he was certain there was a time in his life when he could sleep peacefully.

This time, though-- it was an awkward pain in his neck that had woken him up. He was lying on something uneven, something that was nowhere near as soft and comfortable as his bed. His first guess was that he’d had too much to drink again, and probably passed out on the floor. But then something shifted under him, as a hand moved along his back, causing him to shiver.

Miles found himself wide awake now, body turning rigid in surprise. Even through the darkness, and his lack of glasses - which appeared to have been lost at some point in the night - he could tell he wasn’t alone. There was enough light around him to see the outline of Scott’s face next to him, impossibly close. Miles was trapped in his arms, and much to his surprise-- he didn’t mind at all.

He had no idea how he’d ended up in such a position. The only explanation Miles could think of, was that he’d passed out from exhaustion again, and Scott had just… let Miles use him as a pillow. It was an odd thought, as Miles was sure his clone held negative feelings towards him. Considering how closed off he usually was, it could be hard to tell what Scott was thinking at any given time. After everything they’d been through, Miles couldn’t bring himself to harbour any hate towards the other man any longer.

Even though Scott was sleeping peacefully, he looked…  _ sad _ , in a way that Miles couldn’t describe, let alone understand. He always acted so upbeat around Miles, except for the past few days. What could possibly be bothering him?

Miles knew that he had a bad habit of keeping his own thoughts and feelings bottled up inside, afraid to cause a scene or be a burden, but… there was no way his clone was doing the same thing… right?

Who was he kidding? They were far too alike for their own good, and he didn’t just mean their shared physical appearance. 

Considering they were currently sleeping in such an awkward position, it was oddly comforting to Miles, in an emotional sense. Was it weird to… want to keep this? This… whatever it was? Was he selfish for wanting to keep Scott here, all to himself? Miles internally cringed, thankful that the two of them couldn’t read each other’s thoughts, otherwise he was sure his clone would be disgusted by him.

Why was it that he couldn’t get any sleep unless he was next so someone? No, not someone, not just  _ anyone _ … What was it about his clone that made him feel so-- so  _ comfortable _ ?

He’d admit that, regardless of who it was, Miles craved attention. Just the little things, like hugging, or snuggling-- the simple contact of a warm body was what he missed the most now that he was suddenly on route to divorce. He hadn’t even had that with Kate for years, and yet here he was, melting in another man’s embrace.

The last person he’d ever expect to feel comforted by was a clone of himself.

Miles had gone from hating Scott, to becoming incredibly reliant on him, to the point that he used him for emotional support. He couldn’t help but wonder when his clone would get sick of him and leave. It was only normal. This… domestic peace wouldn’t last forever, he knew how insufferable he was, even to himself…

Miles also knew that Scott was far better off than him, in every department. He would have no problems getting himself out there and finding someone else, and finally moving on after their marriage to Kate. Miles, on the other hand, was far too afraid of that. He was such a burden. He was holding his clone back from living an independent life.

But laying here, in this very moment… Miles had never felt so content in his life. This was something different. This feeling… he couldn’t describe it. There was no point in his life he could recall that was similar to this, whatever it was. He’d have to talk to Scott about it later. For now, it was far too comforting and calming to be here, in this warm embrace. 

He wanted to enjoy it, for a little longer, at least.

As if on command, Scott mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep. The hands around Miles tightened their grip, and they shifted positions-- now finding himself wedged between his clone and the back of the couch.

Miles knew he should protest, that he should escape-- but he felt comforted, safe--  _ wanted _ .

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content, and around his own clone, no less. No-- he wasn’t just a clone anymore. He was a part of him, a part of his life. He meant more to Miles than he could even admit, and it scared him. He didn’t want to be so reliant, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without him. He’d never imagined that he’d have such conflicting feelings for the other man.

Miles knew it was time to move on from the past, and laying here - with Scott, of all people - perhaps it might just be possible for him after all. 

* * *

Scott had been presented with a rare opportunity; one that he couldn’t let slip through his fingers. He was finally alone, apartment to himself.

Miles had come to him earlier in the day, and he’d been hesitant. Scott could tell by his demeanour, but he’d been barely able to focus on the conversation, not with the expression on Miles’ face stealing his attention. 

He needed money; for supplies, for a haircut, and new clothes. Scott had handed over their credit card, and insisted Miles go-- that it’d be good for him to get out for a bit and have some fun. Even as he waved him off through the door, he called himself an utter bastard in his mind, knowing what his plans were for the morning. 

He knew that Miles would be gone for long enough. There was no time to doubt himself. This was his only option. To protect Miles. To save himself.

He still hadn’t told Miles about his interaction with Kate. He knew that he needed to. But it would be the end of their relationship if he did. He’d find out eventually.

Standing in the bathroom, Scott looked back at his reflection with distaste. 

He was Miles. He was a clone. A shadow of another person. But he wasn’t the  _ perfect _ clone he’d been expected to be. He was broken. He was defective. He was a miserable excuse of a person and a waste of space. A thing nobody asked for, not even himself. He had no purpose. He had no meaning. There was nowhere for him to belong. 

Why should he even bother to try?

Not only that… he was afraid-- of himself, of Miles, of his feelings. He was losing the internal battle for control, as he felt it slipping through his fingers. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed a way out.

Scott could barely see himself in the reflection of the mirror anymore. When he focused and stared, he didn’t recognise the man in front of him. He was a complete mess. The constant flow of tears were blinding, and no matter how hard he tried, they were never ending.

Why couldn’t Miles have just killed him when he had the chance?

A hand rested on the edge of the sink, taking most of his weight, legs struggling to keep him upright, body shaking in fear and anticipation. His eyes flickered to the object in his free hand, his way out-- the only way to stop everything.

The gun was loaded this time.

When he was cloned, he had nothing to live for. Then he had Miles. But he couldn’t  _ have  _ him. He couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t ruin him, not after how far he’d come already.

Scott tried his hardest to focus, his thoughts screaming as he attempted to regain control. The voices drowned out his own sense of being, confusing his mind, ruining any part of him that might be sane.

They just wouldn’t  _ stop-- _

_ Just imagine the mess you’ll leave behind,  _ the voice spoke to him.  _ At least put a bag over your head… who do you think will have to clean that up? _

He grit his teeth, hunching his shoulders. He wasn’t going to listen to this. He was only delaying the inevitable.

_ What do you think will happen when Miles walks in and sees your dead, lifeless corpse? Do you think he’s in any mental state to deal with that? You’d be gone, and he’d be left in a house with you and a loaded gun-- _

“Shut up,” Scott yelled at the mirror. “Just--  _ shut up already! _ ”

No, there’s no way Miles would be upset by him. He didn’t even  _ like  _ him. He’d always avert his eyes when they spoke, whenever he stared at him. 

He’d be  _ glad _ he was gone.

_ How can you be so sure? Did Miles say that? _

“Stop it!” His voice sounded hoarse. “ _ Shit--! _ ”

No matter how hard he denied it, the feelings remained.

He wanted Miles so badly. He didn’t know what else to do. His thoughts were corrupting him, taking control of his body, mind filled with nothing but intense sexual desires for someone who could never love him back.

“ _ Fuck _ \--!” Scott swore to himself. 

Questions plagued him constantly, giving him no peace of mind.

What if Miles doesn’t want him to leave? What if he’s just as scared of being alone as Scott was? What if he confessed to Miles, and he felt obligated to reciprocate the gesture, instead of returning his feelings? Or worse-- what if something happened, and he couldn’t control himself, and he held him down, and--

No, he couldn’t think that. Not now, and not ever. 

His hands were shaking, drenched in sweat. His lips were dry. 

The fucking gun wouldn’t stay still in his grasp.

Scott wanted a normal life. He wanted Miles to have a normal life. Miles was more important than he was. Nothing would be normal unless Scott was gone, one way or another.

He couldn’t help but still feel empty inside, all things considered. He’d taken Miles’ life from him, when he never wanted that. He’d never had any memories to truly call his own. He’d even been working under the guise of someone else. He was single, for the first time in a long time, and he just didn’t know what to do with himself.

Scott couldn’t do this. Not on his own.

He was  _ nothing  _ without Miles, and Miles was everything without him.

_ He won’t care. He won’t miss you. He’ll be glad you’re gone. _

There always felt like there was something missing, a part of him, a hole that only felt empty in the absence of Miles.

He was a part of him. They were two parts of the same soul. Was it any wonder that he longed to be close to him? It was the only explanation that made any sense.

But did that mean his feelings weren’t real? That he was acting on some strange instinct, a link binding them from the cloning? No, it couldn’t be true. He knew his feelings, he was sure they were real.

They had to be.

They  _ had _ to be real.

He felt the cold barrel of the gun against the underside of his chin, pointed upwards at an awkward angle. His own face stared back at him, as his mind began counting down.

Three... two...

Scott hesitated, hand pulling away, flailing beside him-- before returning once more, the weapon now resting on his temple.

Three... two...

He practically collapsed against the counter, legs weak, brow covered in sweat, making a sound like a wounded animal as he grit his teeth. The constant voices in his head drowned out the sounds of everything else. He couldn’t think straight, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to get a hold of himself.

Scott knew he was a danger to Miles. He was nothing but a burden to Miles. He just needed… to go… To just get it over with, pull the trigger already, and--

He didn’t hear his name until it was too late.

“Wait--” A voice called to him from the darkness. “ _ Scott--! _ ”

* * *

Scott’s head ached, his ears were ringing, a dizziness causing his vision to blur. He found himself on the floor, wedged awkwardly between the shower door and the tiled floor. He looked down to find Miles slumped over him, a mess of limbs and heavy breaths. He shook his head, regaining his bearings.

“Miles?” Scott asked cautiously, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

The other man groaned, head still hanging low. Scott grimaced, knowing he was in for a tough conversation. The two of them stumbled to their feet, holding on to the other for support.

Miles stared at him with a broken smile. “Yeah, I think I’m--” The words died in his throat; both sets of eyes staring at the space between them. A hand, completely covered in a deep crimson, separated them. The iron could be tasted in the air. “That’s... not good,” he choked out. “Fuck…”

Scott didn’t have time to think or comprehend. His vision went red, panic taking over his every action. Miles’ body gave out, threatening to collapse if it wasn’t for Scott’s firm grip around him.

Every single fear had become a reality before his eyes.

“Oh fuck, of fuck, oh _ fuck--!”  _ Scott dropped the two of them to the floor, one hand cradling his shoulder, the other applying pressure to the wound. “Miles--”

How could this happen? How could he have  _ let  _ this happen? He couldn’t hurt Miles, it wasn’t possible for him to do this-- but he did. It was his fault. He couldn’t lose him. Not yet.

Miles didn’t look scared, or even confused. He looked surprisingly  _ calm _ . He clawed at Scott’s arm, struggling to hold on to him, gritting his teeth through the influx of pain.

“It’s not your fault,” he insisted. “I’m okay...” 

His eyes began to flutter, hands releasing from the clone’s shirt, falling to either side.

“Miles?” Scott exclaimed, receiving no response. “Miles,  _ hey _ \-- stay with me--! Miles!”

As the dial tone echoed through the room, he cradled Miles in his arms, continuing to apply pressure, no matter how much blood covered them both.

Miles didn’t deserve this. 

Not like this.

_ Not like this. _

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Miles had to be okay.  _ Of course _ he had to be okay-- he was  _ Miles-- _

He was-- he was  _ everything. _

The only thing Scott could hear was the echo of his own cries as they drowned out the sirens in the distance.

* * *

The wait felt like an eternity, but it allowed Scott time to reflect-- on his actions, on his choices, on his feelings-- but most importantly, his  _ future _ .

He was to blame for everything. He’d almost killed Miles-- he’d nearly  _ died in his arms _ . Now he was in a hospital bed, unconscious, and fighting for his life. What the hell had he been thinking? Using a fucking  _ gun _ , as if that was the least dangerous thing to do-- it was an accident waiting to happen.

Now Scott found himself sitting on a proverbial fence; two options offered to him. The choice he made now would forever change the course of his life. Part of him wanted to stay. Miles would do well to see a familiar face, even if it was his own, and even if it was one he’d now despise. The other was to take the opportunity to leave before anyone noticed. Miles would be alone, but at least he’d be safe.

Scott couldn’t decide which fate was worse.

With both feet firmly planted on the ground, he tried to tear himself away, but no amount of mental or physical strength would allow him to. The only place he wanted to be was here, next to Miles, holding onto his hand and hoping with every ounce of his being that he’d wake up again.

The only thing keeping Scott from completely losing his sanity at this point, was knowing that Miles was in a stable condition. Whether or not he’d wake up, or stay comatosed, was an entirely different factor.

But once he woke up, he’d beg for forgiveness, even though it wasn’t deserved. 

He couldn’t even forgive  _ himself _ .

* * *

Pain was the first thing he noticed; it was sharp, like a knife to the stomach, radiating through the rest of his body. The next was the sound of a soft tone, beeping insistently, causing him more disorientation, as he fought with his eyes to regain sight. Everything remained blurry, and for a moment, Miles could say that - without a doubt - this was the absolute  _ worst _ hangover he’d ever experienced in his life.

But something wasn’t adding up. This wasn’t his house, or his comfortable bed, or his dark room-- no sight or sound was familiar, in the cold, clean, white surroundings. Panic was setting in now, he could feel it in his chest-- butterflies fluttering and making him feel queasy. The pain continued, intensifying with every movement he attempted to make.

Memories blurred into an incomprehensible mess the more he tried to remember. How did he end up… wherever he was? The last thing he could recall was that he’d been heading out, by himself, to run some errands, and then-- 

Nothing. 

He couldn’t remember anything after getting into the car. Was he… in an accident? Had he been hurt?

Miles felt a source of warmth nearby, the only comforting experience he’d had in the last minute that wasn’t frightening. He reached for it, eyes following his movement, as his hands found a matching pair. As his vision began to clear, he saw the one person who he could count on the most. 

Wide eyes met his own, from a very familiar face. 

“Miles!” Scott said rather abruptly, now up on his feet. 

The sound caused further discomfort, a ringing in his ears becoming more prominent to his senses. His hands instinctively covered his ears, which proved more challenging than first expected, as his arms refused to do what he wanted.

“Sorry,” a whisper spoke to him, soft and caring. “I didn’t think you’d wake up anytime soon.”

Miles finally met the other man’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but grin. He felt ridiculous, tongue heavy and non compliant, and a mind high on painkillers, or another drug equally as strong. As sluggish as it made him, he felt light as a feather, attempting to sit up, limbs uncooperative. 

“Hey, take it easy,” Scott insisted, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, urging him back down. “How do you feel?”

Miles groaned, trying his best to remember how to form words. 

“Like I got hit by a fucking  _ car _ ,” he replied, momentarily suprised by how raspy his voice sounded. "Where… what happened?" he asked, licking his lips. “Was I… wait-- did I  _ actually  _ get hit by a car?”

His clone sat back in the chair beside him, pulling it closer.

“No, you weren’t in a car accident. You… really don’t remember?” Scott appeared stunned, yet he sounded relieved by his question. “There was, a-- uh…” 

Scott trailed off. He was sweating, shifting nervously, appearing as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. It only further fueled Miles’ already anxious and drugged-up state of mind..

Miles looked down at himself, a hand travelled to his stomach, fingers running over the bandages underneath. He had an IV in his hand, beeping machines to his side, the room was sterile and white. He was no doubt in a hospital, which could only mean that whatever had happened… was serious.

“A  _ what? _ ” Miles asked cautiously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

If he wasn’t in a car accident, then-- No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what happened. There was something… important. Something he saw, something that scared him, something that he needed to remember--

Miles flinched involuntarily, everything flooding back in a sudden surge of memories. 

Scott was there, with… he’d been trying to… he was going to--

_ He had to stop him! _

Miles startled, the fragments of his memory finally mended. The other man was now standing by the window, back to him, a guilty and fearful aura surrounding him. 

The images clicked together, and Miles could see what Scott had looked like that day, whenever it was. He was going to hurt himself. He looked… so sad, as if he carried an unbearable burden, a hatred so strong that he would want to do that to himself.

Miles’ vision began to blur, and it took him a moment to realise why. He brought a hand to his eyes, feeling a flow of wet tears running down his cheeks, with no sign of stopping, no matter how hard he tried.

If he hadn’t made it in time, then what would have happened if he hadn't been there? Would Scott-- would he have really… gone through with it? Did he hate himself, his life, his  _ everything _ \-- enough that he didn’t want to be here anymore?

Miles had no idea Scott could possibly be in such a state of suicidal depression without him so much as  _ noticing _ . Had he really been that preoccupied with his own problems, that he hadn’t seen this coming-- even though they were together  _ every _ day?

He was completely out of touch. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He wasn’t going to lose what they had.

“Don’t shut me out,” he requested, biting his lip. There was still no response. “It… it wasn’t your fault.”

That seemed to strike something, watching the other man tense, shoulders becoming ridgid. 

Miles made a pained sound, struggling to move over. Scott finally turned his head noting what Miles was attempting to do. He was by his side again, two concerned hands flailing in front of him, but too afraid to make contact. “You’re still hurt, try not to move,” Scott urged, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Miles paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Then help me,” Miles replied, catching his breath. “ _ Please _ .”

After a moment of silence that felt never ending, Scott complied; pulling in close, hands holding onto him as if he was fragile, as if he might break. But then they were gone, and the warmth with it.

Scott stood awkwardly beside him, appearing as if he wanted to say a million things at once, with no voice. Miles maintained his weak grasp on his wrist, managing to catch Scott before he pulled back too far; staring him directly in the eye, watching him falter. Miles pet the now vacant bed space beside him; an offering. 

“Now lie down next to me and shut up.” His grip tightened, as much as it could in his weakened state. Scott didn’t budge, frozen in place by his side. Miles tried and failed to catch his eye again, raising his free hand between them. “I’m depressed, lonely, high on painkillers, and recovering from a near death experience. I think I’m allowed to ask for a _ little  _ comfort, don’t you agree?”

They exchanged another glance.

“Do it... before I change my mind,” Miles added, wincing as he rolled over slightly to his other side. He was so fucking exhausted and he’d only just woken up. “ _ Please _ .”

Scott fumbled into the bed beside him, and Miles leaned into the warmth, eyelids heavy, as he began to lose the battle to stay awake. He felt as if he’d slept for days, but gained no rest at all. If experience these past few weeks had taught him anything, it was that he felt safe around Scott. Maybe now, he could get some rest knowing he was there with him. 

His free hand rested on the other man’s chest, trying and failing to grasp onto his shirt. He had no idea why he felt so needy, but he wanted Scott to know he was there for him, that he’d do anything for him-- but his own words were failing him. The last thing Miles wanted to do was say something stupid, or something he’d regret-- but right now, he was just happy to have Scott close to him.

“You ever think about pulling a stunt like that again,” Miles started, pausing for breath. It was becoming impossible for him to keep his emotions in check. “...and I’ll... never forgive you.”

A gentle hand ran through his hair, causing his breath to hitch. He leaned into the touch, savouring the feeling, how it made him relax, how it made him feel safe. He hummed, struggling to keep his eyes open any longer.

“Understood,” Scott whispered, voice heavy with emotion.

Miles breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the reason, or at least  _ partly  _ the reason, for Scott’s depressive state of mind. Even though it was only Miles who had turned into a non-functioning alcoholic, he’d assumed, like the idiot he was, that his clone was coping just  _ fine _ . It left him with so many burning questions, and he wanted to help-- or offer something, even if he didn’t have anything of worth. 

In his drugged state of mind, before he finally lost the fight to remain conscious, Miles looked up, eyes focussed on Scott’s face; staring at his expression, his lips, and how nice it would be to kiss them. The thought made no sense to him, but he felt something flutter in his chest; and he knew in that moment that there was no one else he’d rather be with.

* * *

By the sixth day since the incident, Miles had finally woken up. Scott had never felt so relieved in his life, tears that were a mix of relief, pain and fear becoming unstoppable.

Even after remembering the events that led them to where they were now, Miles hadn’t pushed him away. He’d asked for the complete  _ opposite _ of what Scott had been expecting, much to his surprise. It didn’t make any sense to him, no matter how hard he thought about it.

Although sharing the bed all night had been rather constricting and nowhere near as comfortable as a couch, Scott had savoured the closeness, the warmth. He’d stayed there for a few more hours, awake and listening to Miles as he breathed softly, and evenly; feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as they rested so closely together.

The following morning thanked him with a sore neck, and stiff back. It had been quite a task to unfurl, finding Miles had somehow latched an arm around him during the night, keeping them both in place. 

“What were you doing with the gun?” Miles asked, pulling back to face him. Scott felt his hand latch onto the front of his shirt, unsure if it was for support, or his own comfort. He wondered how long Miles had been awake. “You... really planned for that, all this time…”

“Yeah,” Scott admitted, pursing his lips. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

He turned his head away from the other man, focusing on the scenery outside the window, knowing full well he couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“I saw you,” Miles said. “That day. The look in your eyes. I’ve seen it before.”

“I didn’t like being a burden. I never asked for this.”

“Neither did I, but we’re here now-- and I don’t want you to disappear. Please, I need your help.”

Scott let out a sigh, having not realised how long he’d been holding his breath. He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it with an audible click. He didn’t know what to say, how to express his feelings, the reasons for his actions-- Miles would never understand.

“You were telling the truth, back then... You didn’t buy it to kill  _ me _ . Even so, you could have easily let me die,” Miles commented dryly. “But you _ didn’t _ .”

“I’ve never wanted to hurt you, Miles.” 

“I know.” He faltered, letting out a deep sigh. “I know it was an accident.”

“Then why do you still want me around? I know you hate me. I nearly killed you. I can see the look in your eyes, when we talk.” Scott felt his hands ball into fists, trying his best not to let his emotions overpower him. “But it’s okay. I’ve ruined enough of your life. I’ll leave. You’ll never have to see me again.”

He realised something was wrong when Miles started to shake in his arms, and he began to doubt his own words. He reached out, placing his hand gently on the other man’s shoulder, trying his best to try to comfort him. He could hear quiet gasps as Miles attempted his best not to cry; Scott feeling his own heart break in the process.

“I don’t hate you... I hate myself,” Miles admitted. Scott felt his arms tense, breath hitching in his throat. “I  _ loathe _ every part of me. I hate everything I am. I’m sorry-- it’s not you… I just see  _ me  _ and I’m reminded of all the things about me, that I...  _ That’s  _ what I hate.”

Scott pulled him into a sudden, warm embrace-- gently enough to not cause pain or discomfort to his injuries. Miles melted in his arm, trying his best to return the gesture, arms still weak. He felt so warm and safe-- that maybe everything was going to be okay. 

“I need help,” Miles confessed, voice muffled, before adding quietly, “I need  _ you. _ ”

Scott’s eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat; thoughts becoming lost. He needed to hear those words, more than he’d ever realised. After everything, he was so thankful that Miles didn’t hate him like he expected-- but it still didn’t change how he felt about Miles, or himself. 

Miles shifted, burying his face into the clone’s shoulder. “I…” he started, failing to blink back further tears. “I know I’m selfish, but… please, don’t-- don’t leave me to deal with this shit alone.”

This was it. He’d finally broken. They both had.

It left Scott no choice; he was terrified that he’d end up hurting Miles, or doing something stupid again. But if staying is what would make Miles happy, then… he’d stay.

“I’ll never leave you, Miles,” Scott whispered, voice breaking in the process. “I promise.”


	4. I need you

It was almost an entire week before Miles was well enough to be discharged from the hospital.

Scott rarely left this side, regardless if Miles was awake or not. He knew it would take time for him to recover, including plenty of rest-- but even at night, he was hesitant to leave. It wasn’t until one of the nurses complained that he too needed to get some rest, that he finally complied - heading home for a few hours of sleep.

When he’d been able to calm down enough, he’d called their boss. He didn’t exactly say _why_ , and after apologising for the short notice, he’d decided to take all his personal leave that he’d accumulated over the years. It might be a long time before he could go back. Even if Miles was immediately independent once he was discharged, Scott knew that he was in no mental state to work.

Neither of them were.

The police came by not too long after, on the day after Miles had first arrived. Scott was as honest as he could be - he explained what happened, as much as he didn’t want to, and as much as he wanted to lie and hide his shame-- but he had no choice. He’d do anything that was in Miles’ best interest, including this. Once Miles was awake enough to be interviewed, the officers took no further action, leaving promptly afterwards.

Scott was finally allowed time to relax, passing out in the chair next to Miles’ bed. It was becoming a habit, waking up like that-- back constantly complaining, and diet severely lacking sustenance. With Miles still asleep, he’d decided to head home once more, in hopes to clean up their apartment for Miles’ eventual return. 

Even after their conversation, the time Miles had first awoken-- Scott was still riddled with guilt and shame, and wanted nothing more than to make it up to Miles, in one way or another.

On the morning of the sixth day, Miles was already awake when he returned from their apartment, and much to Scott’s surprise - he was up on his feet, staring out the window. He’d barely been out of bed since arriving, and it was a good sight to see. He was nearly back to his old self, and for the first time all week-- Scott felt relieved.

“Here,” the clone said, placing an oversized backpack on the end of the bed. “Though you’d need a change of clothes for the ride home.”

“Thanks.” Miles turned, a little too quickly, nearly falling off balance. Scott reached out on instinct, helping him remain upright. He was still not used to walking around after being bedridden for so long. 

“Try to take it easy,” Scott chastised lightly, leading him back to the bed.

Miles reached into the bag, pulling out a fresh shirt. “How did you know they were discharging me today?” He asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Lucky guess,” Scott shrugged. “Knew you’d be leaving _eventually_.”

The two of them shared a smile, as Miles attempted to pull on the shirt from behind him. The movement was awkward, and he flinched with a sudden spike of pain, causing Scott to move back beside him, unsure of what to do with his hands.

“Can you, uh--” Miles held the shirt awkwardly in front of him. “Give me a hand?”

Scott nodded silently, maneuvering the sleeves through his arms, and carefully buttoning up the front. Being this close, he could tell just how exhausted Miles truly was, the bags under his eyes dark and prominent. He couldn’t wait for the two of them to be back in the apartment together. It had been so lonely and quiet without Miles to keep him company. Maybe then they could both get proper rest.

“Let’s get you home.”

This wasn’t going to be a quick or easy healing process. But Scott would be there for him.

Always. 

* * *

“Kate wanted to see me?” Miles asked, clicking in his seatbelt. “When did this happen?”

Scott couldn’t think of an answer right away, mind going back to the events of that day. He’d reacted poorly when he last spoke to her, and all his immediate thoughts went to Miles, and what was best for him-- without even considering to just _ask_ him what he wanted to do.

“I didn’t get around to it, with everything else going on,” he replied half-heartedly. “But I wasn’t trying to _hide_ anything from you, or anything like that.”

Even though his eyes were focused on the road, he could feel Miles staring at him from the passenger seat.

“Were you really that afraid that I’d go back to her, or leave you by yourself-- or something like that?”

That was a good question. Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid of such a reality.

“I… I don’t know.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I wasn’t in the best mindset at the time, and I thought--”

Scott’s eyes went wide at a sudden, warm touch on his thigh. His gaze darted to the side, seeing Miles staring at him with a soft, caring smile.

“You’ve taught me a lot about having self worth, and taking care of yourself,” he started, pulling back slowly. “Don’t go doing the same thing, we’re better than that. Your wellbeing is just as important as mine.”

The clone blinked, completely stunned. Not just by his words, but his actions as well. Miles had been uncharacteristically gentle and kind around him these last few weeks, and he still couldn’t figure out _why_. He didn’t deserve to be treated with such compassion.

“You’re right,” Scott replied, letting out a sigh. “It sounds kinda dumb when I say it out loud.”

“I’m glad you’re self aware,” Miles chuckled, and the sound was like a breath of fresh air to Scott. “Your punishment is to look after me until I’m completely recovered, then,” he added with a cheeky smile.

“I can live with that.” Scott shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Least I can do.”

* * *

Miles had spent most of the trip home considering his next movements.

The whole _accidentally being shot_ thing had thrown a rather large wrench into his plans-- as bland as they were. But there were still many unsaid words and legal papers he needed to work out with Kate. 

“I… I’ll think about it,” Miles said softly. “About seeing her, I mean.”

Neither of them would truly be able to move on unless they were officially divorced-- and there was no way that was happening if they remained silent towards each other.

“Okay,” Scott replied after a brief silence. “You just tell me when you’re--”

“But I want you there with me,” Miles added hastily, surprising himself. “I… don’t want to go by myself.”

Scott blinked, shooting him a curious glance. “Are-- are you _sure_? I don’t want to complicate things.”

“Of course. And I doubt you’ll complicate anything.” Miles brushed his hair back with his hand, taking a moment to consider how they’d go about meeting with Kate. “I’m not sure what state of mind I’ll be in, so I could use your help. You know… to keep me on track.”

His clone turned to him with a nod. “You can count on me.”

But then something strange happened in that moment--

Scott smiled at him. A simple, common gesture-- one that Miles had seen hundreds of times-- but this was different. His heart fluttered, and he felt time slow to a crawl during those few seconds.

He blinked, turning his gaze out the window rather swiftly. His hands fumbled awkwardly in his lap, as he tried with all his willpower not to focus on whatever the hell he’d just felt in his chest.

Which reminded him of one of the weirder thoughts he’d had recently-- but he still wasn’t sure if it was the drugs, or the feeling of being on the cusp of death--

No. Miles was _certain_ he remembered correctly. 

He’d thought about kissing his clone. That couldn’t be normal, right? What did it _mean?_

Was he just lonely, or... was it something else entirely?

* * *

Scott pulled Miles’ arm around his shoulder, free hand slipping around his waist for support. He wasn’t _entirely_ useless when it came to walking, but the less stress he put on his body right now, the better. The last thing he wanted was for Miles to fall and hurt himself further. 

Closing the door to their apartment, Scott paused by the couch. Miles used it as leverage, letting out a brief sigh. He looked like he needed rest, and that was all Scott was going to recommend he do for the next few weeks. 

Scott’s attempt at moving away from the other man failed; a hand still gripping to his shirt tightly. His eyes darted down with sudden curiosity, but only for a moment, before he was pulled in for a weak hug. His hands hovered for a moment, until he caught up with what was happening-- he slipped his hands around Miles’ waist, holding him gently. 

Even as the two pulled back from one another, one of Miles’ hands lingered on his hip. Scott tried his best not to focus on it.

“Thanks,” Miles mumbled, gaze flickering away towards the floor. “For looking after me, I mean.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Scott chuckled softly, patting him on the shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m, uh-- dying for a shower, to be honest,” Miles complained, leaning his weight against the couch to stay up straight. “I can’t even remember the last time I had one, actually. I feel _gross_.”

Scott nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll start on something to eat.”

Miles felt his stomach growl at the thought, mouth watering. “Real food sounds good right about now.”

After a moment, Miles pushed away from the lounge room, slowly making his way towards the bathroom. Scott wanted to help him, to lend him a hand-- but he felt like he was already fussing over Miles a little too much. He needed his space sometimes, and he’d try his best not to overstep their personal boundaries.

Scott busied himself in the kitchen, sorting through what little food they currently had - bad planning on his part, naturally - and pulled out everything he needed for a decent meal. Considering the food they’d been eating in the hospital, _anything_ that he managed to make would be better than that.

The sound of running water was loud enough for Scott to notice that the bathroom door was still ajar, which was rather unusual. His curiosity got the better of him, as he made his way over; glancing into the room. 

Miles was in front of the mirror, expression stern. He’d undone the front of his shirt, which was nothing new to Scott-- but the sight beneath was what made his breath hitch momentarily. The bandage had been removed, displaying Miles’ rather unsightly injury. Yellow and purple bruises surrounded his middle, travelling up his right side. Miles was staring at it in the reflection of the mirror, almost as if he was inspecting it. Scott grimaced, mimicking Miles’ expression.

“Do you need a hand?” He offered, unintentionally startling the other man.

Miles shook his head. “I should be good, thanks.” His expression changed, and he actually _smiled_ at Scott, which was strange considering their current circumstance. “I might get your help afterwards though.”

Scott nodded, taking that as his queue to leave. He could use this time to finish getting the apartment in a suitable state for Miles-- including dinner. He turned back briefly before closing the door.

“I’ll be here if you need me.”

* * *

Miles let out a deep sigh as the warm water covered him, running down his back, and soaking his hair. It allowed him to finally relax a little, after the last week of feeling ridiculously tense and rigid. 

The pain was becoming more intense with each passing minute. As enjoyable and relaxing as this was, he couldn’t linger for long. He needed to get out, and take as many painkillers as possible. There was no way he could sleep like this, or be comfortable in the slightest. But it was better than the alternative-- he was glad that both he and his clone were still here, and still together-- that day could have gone far, _far_ worse.

Staring down at the damage done to his body, everything finally clicked.

He braced himself against the cold tile wall, the realisation only _now_ setting in on how close he came to death. The doctor had told him how lucky he was-- apparently, any higher or lower, and the bullet would have been far more likely to have been fatal. It was making him only now truly re-evaluate his purpose in life, who he was, and what he wanted to do with the time he had left. 

Then there was Scott; the same man but practically an enigma to him. Where did he fit into Miles’ life? Was there a future for the two of them, or would it be best for them to go their separate ways?

Miles hated the thought of them being apart, but he couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was for the same reasons why Scott had stayed with him until now. Maybe they just wanted the same thing-- company, and comfort-- driven by the fear of being alone.

They needed to talk. Miles had to be certain that he wasn’t holding the other man back, especially after the events that had unfolded recently. If Scott was as depressed as he thought, then Miles needed to at least get him help, even if the two of them sat down and just _talked--_ about anything, and everything.

How could it be possible that they were both so similar, yet so different?

* * *

Scott’s hands were gentle against his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily, trying his best to suppress a blush. 

Miles was entirely focussed on his clone’s expression, as he worked incredibly close, with an intensity and concentration that he’d never seen before. He was tending to Miles’ injury like an expert; following each and every step just as they’d been directed. 

The silence was creating an awkward tension in the room, but Miles felt too shy to say anything. First aid or not, this was surprisingly intimate.

Scott got to his feet a moment later, giving Miles another once over. Even now, he had a rather sad, borderline _upset_ look on his face-- and Miles had a feeling that he knew what was on his mind.

“Would you stop that?” He requested, tugging down his shirt.

Scott blinked innocently, eyebrows shooting up. “Stop _what,_ exactly?”

“That face you make, like you’re guilty,” Miles reiterated. “You look like a kicked puppy.”

The clone pinched his brow, looking at the floor. “Miles--”

“How many times do I have to say it was an _accident?_ ” He braced a hand on the clone’s shoulder, keeping himself upright. “Look, I’m here, and I’m fine, and I forgive you, even though there’s nothing to _forgive_.”

For some reason, Miles’ words only appeared to make Scott look even _more_ upset.

“It’s not _that_...”

“Scott.” Miles interrupted, catching his eyes, and staring at him intensely. “You need to forgive _yourself_.”

The clone sighed, averting his eyes, but not replying any further. Miles suspected he was carrying a heavy burden of guilt and regret-- they’d need to talk about it at some point. The two of them deserved to be happy, and he was going to make sure that he was more open with his thoughts and feelings going forward.

“Could you… give me a hand to the couch?” Miles requested, feeling incredibly useless and dependent on the other. “Please? I, uh-- don’t think my legs feel like cooperating with me right now.”

Scott stilled, his hands hovering beside Miles awkwardly, as if he’d been told to pick up something priceless. 

“Come on,” Miles urged, pulling on his sleeve. “I’m not made of glass.”

* * *

Miles was glad that Scott was, somehow, much stronger than he appeared. He was told it was part of the whole _cloning thing_ \-- one of the many ‘benefits’ of whatever that process had entailed. 

Neither of them could complain, as it was now coming in handy, considering their situation. 

Scott placed him down gently on the couch, lingering for an extra moment, before pulling back. Miles’ hand shot out before he could stop himself, latching onto his wrist, eyes meeting silently. He had no idea what he was doing, or what he wanted to say. He just knew that he didn’t want to be alone.

The clone paused, practically freezing under his stare.

“Can you stay?” Miles asked. “I’m… really nervous about being alone right now.”

It wasn’t as if he was _leaving_ or anything like that-- and Miles had no idea where his sudden spike of anxiety was originating from. But there was something about the close contact that made him feel safe, which made little sense to him-- it wasn’t as if either of them were in danger.

That wasn’t the only concern.

Miles was becoming increasingly troubled by a feeling that would linger in the back of his mind. It was a need, a _want--_ for _something_ , he wasn’t quite sure-- but it was always directed towards Scott.

Perhaps it was the warmth, or the comfort, of having someone near him that could understand him more than most.

Or maybe it was _more_ than that.

“Yeah, of course,” Scott replied, staring down at his arm. Miles quickly pulled away, snapping from his thoughts. “I’ll just grab us dinner and be back shortly.”

Miles sighed, relaxing just a little bit, as his eyes followed his clone’s movements.

What would he ever do without him?

* * *

The amount of willpower Scott had to muster, in those few minutes he shared with Miles in the bathroom, nearly made him break completely. He’d never seen such a vulnerable side to him-- practically naked, weak, and relying on him-- it made him melt. His fingertips felt warm against his skin, the way Miles averted his eyes, the face he made--

But he’d _hurt_ Miles-- the most important person to him-- _he did that._ If there was ever a chance of them being together, in any way, shape or form... that was no longer an option. He’d destroyed that bridge when the gun went off.

Killing himself was out of the question. He’d hurt Miles enough. Miles actually _needed_ him now. He couldn’t say no to that. He’d have to deal with his own shit in some other way-- but not right now.

Scott’s obsession to care from him thankfully took over from his more lustful desires, and depressive thoughts-- before he did something _stupid_ again.

There were enough painkillers to last a month. Scott made sure that Miles was only allocated enough to get him through the day. The biggest struggle was keeping him away from the alcohol-- the two of them didn’t mix well, only increasing his drowsiness. Last thing they needed was him tripping, falling, and pulling out all his stitches.

Walking was another recommendation. They’d both been meaning to get out and exercise more often, so they’d created a habit of going on a short walk, three times a day. The doctor insisted it would help him heal faster and prevent further complications.

Lifting of anything remotely heavy was also a big _no_. Scott was okay with that. Every time they had to go grocery shopping, he’d make sure to handle all the items, bags, and unpacking. He’d even started helping Miles prep, clean up, and cook-- knowing just how exhausting the process was.

Sleep was another important factor in recovery. Miles had to sleep on his back, and only his back, to prevent excess strain. It was aggravating, as they were both avid side-sleepers. Scott would make sure to check on him, at least a few times in the night, to make sure he hadn’t rolled over unexpectedly. 

Even with Scott trying his best not to not become a complete mother hen, the need to be there for Miles and help him with anything he needed was taking over him, and he feared he was going to smother the other man.

But a couple of weeks of avid care, and Miles would be back to normal in no time.

* * *

Days turned into weeks; and before they knew it, Miles had almost fully recovered. His wound had mostly healed; however, the pain could still be spontaneous and intense. It didn’t appear to be going away anytime soon, so Scott would have to ensure he kept a close eye on their supply of painkillers.

Having spent so much time together only made Scott’s heart ache more. It caused a constant, nagging question in the back of his mind: 

What was he going to do with himself?

The closer he got to Miles, the more time they spent together, and the more Miles let Scott hold him-- there was no way he could keep his hands to himself. At this point, he was testing the boundaries; waiting for Miles to complain or push him away-- or _something--_

But it never happened.

In fact, it was actually _Miles_ initiating the contact.

As soon as Scott would walk in the door after work, he’d head straight into the kitchen to start on dinner, only to find Miles standing directly behind him, pulling him into a hug. He’d simply stand there, heart racing, and face flushed-- thankfully, Miles couldn’t see his expression from that angle-- and then after a minute, he’d walk away, and Scott would continue what he was doing.

It was like some kind of silent, unspoken habit.

It was… strange. But Scott couldn’t complain. It was nice; reassuring, even-- to have those brief expressions of love and affection. Even if he knew that it was simply a reassuring friendly gesture, and nothing more.

But that wasn’t the strangest change in their living dynamic.

Somehow, they’d ended up sharing the same bed now, like it was a completely normal part of their life. Scott didn’t bring it up, and neither did Miles. Even their evenings on the couch, after a long day and a filling dinner; Miles would be right up against him, like he belonged there.

It started with sitting next to each other, then Miles would lean on him, usually to doze off. He’d rest his head on Scott’s shoulder, and stare at the television, until the drugs put him right out. Sometimes, Scott would stay there, and enjoy the warmth and comfort for just a little longer, before picking Miles up and putting them both to bed.

Then other times, Miles would sit down next to him, throw a pillow on Scott’s lap, and lay down across him. The first time it happened, the clone went completely ridgid, unsure what to do with his hands. But then he noticed how peaceful Miles looked, and how comforted he was by the closeness-- that he'd simply shrug it off, and try his best to keep his hands to himself.

Scott was beginning to feel that maybe _he_ was the one who needed to set up boundaries; especially after this morning. He’d woken up, warm and rested, to find an arm slung lazily across his waist, and Miles pressed up against his back.

To Scott’s surprise, it turned out Miles was quite the cuddler. In a way, it helped him deal with what he craved and longed for-- but on the other hand, it reminded him that this was as close as he could ever be to Miles; and if he ever asked for anything more, he’d lose this as well.

He couldn’t endure much more of this.

* * *

Tonight was going to be different. 

Scott had finally found the courage-- _liquid_ courage, in the form of red wine-- to come clean to Miles.

About _everything_.

He’d become such a nervous, anxious disaster-- that Miles had already appeared to pick up that something was wrong. But even if he did, he didn’t ask any questions. For that, Scott was thankful. 

It was still too early in the evening, and he wasn’t nearly as drunk as he needed to be to get everything off his chest. He could only pray that he wouldn’t completely fuck this up.

Although Miles was still experiencing pain on occasion, they’d both been unbearably sober since they’d returned from the hospital. Now that Miles was healed up, for the most part, the two of them could finally enjoy a quiet evening, with a few drinks, and allow themselves to unwind.

At least, that’s what he’d make Miles _believe_.

* * *

Miles made a sad attempt to get up from the couch, wobbling precariously, before Scott pulled him back down to safety. He mumbled something about getting a refill, to which Scott rolled his eyes, taking the empty beer bottle from his hands, and returning with a new one. Miles had managed to go through nearly an entire six pack on his own; Scott opting for his more preferred red wine of choice.

“Take it easy. I told you to be careful with the alcohol,” Scott lectured, as he usually did. “You _know_ the adverse effects of mixing it with your painkillers--” 

“I’m _fine…_ ” Miles insisted, waving him off with a laugh. “I’m more worried about _you_.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “Why’s that?” He asked, a spike of anxiety rushing through him.

“I keep thinking about everything, you know…” He really didn’t. “Are you… depressed?”

Ah, right. The hospital. His suicide attempt. They’d barely spoken a word of it since it occurred. He was afraid of when they’d have to bring it up, or talk about it. 

“I don’t even know anymore,” Scott admitted, brushing a hand through his hair. “It’s… hard, for me-- being what I am, among other things... But I’m sorry about what I did. It was selfish.”

“Hey, don’t apologise,” Miles hushed him gently. “I just-- do you still feel that way? You can talk to me, you know. I’ll try my best to understand… I’m not in the best mental state to offer great advice, though. But I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, I really do appreciate that.” He meant it, too. “I just need some more time to adjust. To figure everything out.”

“No pressure at all. I know what it’s like. But… is it because of Kate? Or… something else?”

Scott cocked his head to the side. “Something else... like?”

“Well, it’s just that-- I can’t help but feel like it might be because of me?” Miles sounded completely torn up about it, hunching forward. “You’d tell me though, right? I don’t… I really would hate to be the cause of your sadness, and I don’t want us to resent each other.”

Scott was touched that he felt that way, unable to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. He wanted nothing more than to tell him everything in that moment, but he wasn’t ready yet. He needed to ease into that conversation-- and perhaps, lie a little for now.

“We’re certainly in quite a _unique_ situation, but no-- it’s not because of you, Miles.” Scott paused for a moment, considering the same question. “What about you? Are you still, you know-- I’ve really never stopped to ask how _you_ feel about Kate in all this. How are you doing, now that it’s been a few months?”

“Pff… I’m _fine_ ,” Miles chuckled, much to the clone’s surprise. “Who needs her when I’ve got _you_.”

Scott’s mouth went dry; words completely lost to him. If only Miles knew just how much those words meant to him, and how much he wanted to say the same. But it was different. Miles didn’t mean it in the same way that he did; it was merely a friendly gesture. He had to remind himself of that.

“Miles…” Scott whispered, trying to remain calm. “Don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s true, isn’t it…?” He paused, turning to the clone, and started counting out points on his fingers. “You’re far better company. I can talk to you about difficult and personal things. No one understands me like you do. There. Prove me wrong.”

Scott felt himself tense, eyes unable to pull away from the ridiculous look Miles was giving him. His hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, using it as something to focus on, or else he wasn’t sure he could keep them to himself.

“Well… when you put it like _that,_ I guess I can’t disagree. But I’d say the same about _you_.”

“As you should,” Miles replied with a huge grin. “Who could possibly be better company than _yourself?”_

Scott wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this, he thought to himself, as he refilled his glass.

* * *

At some point in the evening, they’d slipped down to the floor, backs leaning up against the couch, several empty bottles scattered around them. They were enjoying each other’s company, with the distant sound of the television flickering in front of them, displaying some program that neither of them were paying much attention to. Scott’s eyes kept being pulled away, drifting down to Miles, who was sitting to his left. Due to his demeanour, he appeared shorter than usual, poor posture causing him to arch forward slightly. He was resting his head on the clone’s shoulder, breathing softly.

Scott’s eyes continued to wander, taking note of how Miles’ shirt and tracksuit pants weren’t quite as much of a nice fit as they once were. Even with his week in the hospital, he was still noticeably chubbier, causing his clothes to fit rather snuggly.

It was a nice sight, in his opinion, which meant he found it hard not to stare.

“You should probably quit drinking,” Scott remarked, before he could stop himself. 

It sounded more like he meant drinking tonight; but it was more so the fact that his constant, ongoing drinking was causing him to gain weight. Not that that was a problem, but he was sure Miles would start to complain about it once it caught up with him.

“I know. I know,” Miles agreed, nodding absent-mindedly. “Wait... why?”

The clone rolled his eyes, moving his free hand to Miles’ hip. “‘Cause you’re really gaining some weight,” he pinched him in the side. “You look like shit.”

“Hey--” Miles pulled back, unamused, and nearly spilled the remainder of his beer. “ _Fuck you_.”

Scott’s mind was completely overtaken by lewd thoughts; clearly not the intended effect, but he could feel himself slipping.

“Mm...” The clone grinned, nearly as drunk as Miles was at this point. “ _Sure_.”

Oh, _fuck_. 

As soon as the word left his lips, it was as if he sobered up for a brief moment. Why did he say that? Why would he reply like a complete drunken _idiot--?_

Alright, he could play this off-- he could act cool. He wasn’t _quite_ ready to admit his undying love for Miles just yet, nor would Miles be ready to hear such a confession. He just needed to get back under control before he did something too stupid, too early-- _again._

The alcohol was having a ridiculous effect on him. He never remembered being such a lightweight.

“W-what?” Miles stuttered. He was sure he heard what he said, but he didn’t understand. “What did you--”

“Nothing,” Scott replied quickly, cutting off his words with an awkward laugh. “It’s nothing. You’re just easy to mess with when you’re drunk.”

That was _also_ the wrong thing to say.

_Idiot._

“Was your… was this your plan this entire time?” Miles faltered a little, leaning to his left. “Get me drunk… and make fun of me?”

Was he really just a joke to Scott? Was _that_ the reason he always hung around him, because he looked so pathetic in the presence of his clone?

“Hey, take it easy-- that’s not it.” Scott felt panic beginning to set in-- he needed to explain, and climb out of this hole he’d dug for himself. “Miles--”

He’d found himself following after the other man, almost leaning completely over him by now, wine glass forgotten; eyes on Miles and Miles alone. He was stumbling, unable to find the words he was looking for.

“You _never_ get drunk, so why now?” Miles was leaning against the wall, a hand in front of him, keeping Scott at a distance. He was up to no good, he could _sense_ it. “Don’t get so close--”

The clone continued to crowd him, reaching out. “Miles… I just need you to listen to me,” he whispered.

“I can’t believe you--”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Miles’ eyes were wide, alert and concerned at Scott’s tone of voice. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

They both paused, Miles’ perplexed expression meeting one of sadness and frustration.

“What are you talking about?” Miles asked, now unsure if he wanted to leave or stay. “Are you okay?”

“I just… I needed to talk to you, about something-- and was afraid how you might react. I didn’t mean to get so drunk.”

Scott looked up when a hand reached for his shoulder with a gentle touch. 

“Is it… are you leaving? You’re leaving, aren’t you…?” Miles looked torn, unable to hide his apparent sadness. “It’s okay, I understand… I know what I’m like to be around… I’m probably the cause of all your problems anyway.”

“No! No, I’m sorry--” Scott shook his head. Why was this so fucking hard to just get out in the open? “It’s nothing like that. It’s just--”

Scott was practically towering over him, pinning him against the wall; and Miles felt smaller than ever. Whatever it was that his clone needed to tell him, it couldn’t be good. The sense of dread growing in Miles’ chest was suffocating him-- and he prepared for the worse.

“You’re…” Miles’ breath hitched briefly. “You’re scaring me.”

“I can leave, but I’ll only leave if you want me to. If you hate me, if I make you uncomfortable, if I get in the way, if I--”

“Scott.”

He froze at his name, mouth snapping shut with a click. 

_Fuck._

Why did he have to say his name like that?

“What… what is it?” Miles asked cautiously. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Scott still couldn’t form the right words, his frustration ever growing. “I know you blame me for how your life’s turned out these past few weeks, but I can’t live like this anymore, and I--”

“I don’t--” Miles interrupted. “I’m sorry... for the way I am. I _know_ I’m unlikable, and depressing, and annoying-- and I use you as an excuse sometimes… but I can’t hate you.” His gaze was intense. “Not anymore. You _know_ that. We’re in this together.”

Scott was staring at him, eyes never moving away. His heart rate was rising with every second; he could feel his palms sweating, mouth going dry. They were so close, and the words were sitting on the end of Scott’s tongue, begging to be said.

“If you don’t hate me now, then you _will_ ,” he warned, leaning in closer. “I spend so much time and energy holding back because of you. I’ve had enough, Miles. I can’t do this anymore.”

Miles was speechless, eyes wide and unblinking. He still had no idea what he was talking about, and was unsure whether or not he should be as scared as he felt.

“You’re right, about what you said before. You _are_ the source of my problems. But not in the way you think.”

Scott was mere inches from the other man’s face-- it would take nothing more than a brief push forward for their lips to meet. Then this could be all over-- then all of his secrets would be known, and his relationship with Miles would be no more.

But no matter how hard he tried, he just-- couldn’t close the distance. He couldn’t go through with this after all. He couldn’t do that to both of them.

“I’m sorry--” The clone jumped to his feet, trying his best to get as far away as he could. “Forget it.”

“Wait, _Scott_ \--”

Miles reached for the first thing he could latch on to; the sleeve of Scott’s shirt. He unintentionally pulled a little too hard, causing them both to tumble back, falling on the couch. He felt himself squished into the cushions, the heavy body of his clone weighing him down, causing a brief moment of pain as his injury acted up.

“Shit--!” Scott cursed, leaning back with a worried expression. He was looking all over to make sure Miles was okay, assessing for damage.

Miles looked up at him, glasses crooked on his nose. “You okay?”

“Yes… I think so.” 

Scott felt like he could cry, and he had no idea why such a feeling overtook him. He was just glad Miles was okay.

He leaned down, wrapping his hands around Miles and holding him close-- as close as he could without hurting him. His want and need for Miles was reaching unbearable levels, but just knowing how close he was, held against him-- it made it a little easier for him to bear. 

A small, surprised sound escaped from Miles as the other man’s hands curled around him; the initial shock eventually wore off as he returned the gesture. It was so nice, and _warm_ , and comforting-- he could never admit just how much he craved the attention. 

His glasses were crushed awkwardly between them, digging into his face uncomfortably. He tried to maneuver the two of them to a more suitable position. Scott shifted above him, a leg dipping between his own, getting a little too close. 

Miles yelped unintentionally. “Watch it--”

“Sorry--” Scott mumbled pathetically. “World’s still spinning a little.”

The clone attempted to pull away, finding that he couldn’t move far. Miles was keeping him close, arms clinging tightly to his shirt, face hidden from view. He was mumbling something about him being comfortable, and not wanting to get up.

But there was something on his mind.

“Are you…” Miles started, clearing his throat. “...going to explain what you meant before, or… not?”

Scott raised himself up on one arm, a shaking hand grasping for Miles’ glasses, pulling them off and throwing them to the ground.

“Hey-- I can barely see as is--” Miles protested, suddenly interrupted with a hand pinning one of his to the couch. Scott looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. “What are you doing? I-- I don’t--”

Miles felt a hand cup his cheek, eyes never leaving his. He felt like he was in a trance, going completely rigid under the clone’s gaze. He couldn’t think of anything, mind drawing a blank, voice dying in his throat.

Scott finally allowed himself to let go of everything that had been holding him back.

“I’m doing something I should have done a while ago.”

Miles felt a pair of warm lips against his own, capturing him in a kiss. It was brief, and hesitant-- and he had absolutely no idea what was happening. But it was doing _something_ to him-- answering all his doubts, all his questions that he’d been asking himself these last months since they’d left Kate.

Scott pulled back just long enough for another breath, but this time, he was more bold; returning for a second kiss with a little more vigor. He felt Miles tensing in his grasp, and he was already preparing for the worst. But then Miles relaxed, practically melting into his arms-- and fucking _moaning_ into his mouth.

He was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. The look on Miles’ face was to die for. He was flushed, lips wet and breathing heavy--

Miles was melting to the touch, arms struggling to decide whether he wanted to push Scott away, or pull him closer. 

Any ounce of control Scott ever had left had dissipated. 

Scott pulled up Miles’ shirt, trapping his arms above his head, and blocking his vision. He ran a gentle hand over his sides, tracing down his chest, hovering by his injury for a moment. Miles shivered, body tensing at the touch. He continued over every scar, every indent and freckle, running his fingers through his chest hair with a lick of his lips. 

Miles’ skin prickled as it met the cold air-- he felt Scott grope at his chest, his hands quickly replaced by warm lips, nipping and sucking as he made his way down. He wanted to see, he wanted to feel, he wanted to _touch--_

Fuck, it was intense.

Scott didn’t have the time or patience to contemplate how or why Miles was returning his advances, but he could worry about that later. He’d been dreaming of this moment for such a long time, and this might just be his only chance to hold him. Thankfully, he could tell Miles was into it-- how or why, he had no idea-- but he could feel his hard dick pressing against him. It made his mouth water in anticipation-- he wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull away his pants, and mouth it through the fabric-- imagining the sounds it would cause Miles to make.

But both Scott and Miles were drunk, and Miles probably didn’t even realise what he was doing. A constant battle in his mind plagued Scott, contemplating whether or not this was a good idea-- especially with them both in such an inebriated state.

Miles was confused and aroused and _completely overwhelmed_ by all the sensations that had come over him in the last few minutes. Scott kissed him-- and he fucking _liked_ it. But now he had no idea what their relationship was, or why he’d even _done that_ to him in the first place.

He was in no state of mind to be thinking right now. His sensors were being overtaken with too many feelings to comprehend, back arching, and mouth making sounds he’d never known he was capable of. He was still unsure what was happening, and his lack of vision and movement only further increased his growing anxiety.

But something was off. He needed to say something.

Not-- not like _this_.

“Wait-- _stop_ ,” Miles begged. “Please.”

Scott stilled for a moment, complying with his request. His hands pulled back, as reality hit him full force. What the fuck had he been thinking? Now he’d truly fucked everything up.

He needed to get out of here.

“Fuck, sorry-- I--”

Miles pulled his shirt down quickly, grabbing onto Scott before he could get far, and pushing him back down on the couch. The clone stumbled backwards, landing awkwardly, eyebrows shooting up with a look of surprise.

“Miles, what--”

He cut Scott off with a kiss, practically straddling his thighs. He had no idea what he was doing, or what he wanted, or why he was doing this-- but it felt right. He couldn’t deny himself this pleasure. 

“Miles…” Scott’s mind was blank, but he was sufficiently aware to know that Miles had initiated-- enough to be sure that maybe he wanted this as much as Scott did.

“Shut up and _hold me_.”

Miles moaned, holding his clone close with a hand in his hair. He was so horny right now, his thoughts and questions could wait until they were sober. But right now all he knew was that he liked what was happening-- and he wanted _more_.

“You feel so good,” Scott mumbled, hands tracing every part of his skin that he could reach. 

“Just touch me, please--” Miles ground down against his leg with a whine. “ _Fuck--!_ ”

Scott’s mind was reeling; still attempting to comprehend that this was actually happening. Thousands of unanswered questions screamed in his mind-- but he couldn’t stop now. This might be his only chance. 

He could deal with the denial and guilt when he was sober.

Miles straddled his lap, knees on either side. They were both pressed against each other, uncomfortably hard; clothed erections rubbing against each other for friction.

“Wait-- I won’t be able to… control myself if you keep--” 

Scott groaned, reaching a hand down the front of Miles’ pants, fingers curling around his dick. He received a soft gasp in response. Miles went limp in his arms, fingers clawing at his back. The clone turned his head slightly, breathing against his neck-- his free hand roaming across his back.

Miles couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced something that felt as good as this-- and that’s when he realised that of course someone like Scott would know _exactly_ what he liked; finding every single one of his weak spots on the first try. The clone jerked him off hastily, and Miles found himself unable to speak, his mouth forming nothing but a slew of embarrassing sounds.

A warm face pressed into his neck, focussed and determined-- and Miles wanted to do something in return, but the sensation of someone else touching him made his mind go blank. He could feel how hard Scott was as well-- thrusting against his thigh to match the movements of his hands. Miles could do nothing than claw his back, desperate for release.

One thing Miles was sure of: Scott wanted this as much as he did. He wasn't going to question that-- especially when it felt this _good_. 

Scott relished how Miles was squirming under his touch, feeling him respond as every single weak spot of his was found and abused. His other hand was holding onto his hip, keeping him in place, keeping him close.

“Fuck,” Miles swore, gritting his teeth. It was becoming too intense for him to handle. “I _can’t--_ ” 

“It’s okay,” the clone panted, quickening his pace. “Come for me.”

Scott knew that he was just as hard as the man in his arms-- but he could wait. He was trying his best to use his remaining willpower not to come untouched purely from the sounds emanating from Miles.

The man above him didn’t last much longer, biting the moan of his orgasm, collapsing into Scott’s arms, breathing ragged. 

Scott wasn’t done with him yet. 

Holding to Miles with both hands, he carefully shifted their position, laying him down on the couch. His eyes were heavy, and his expression was doing things to Scott that he couldn’t explain. In fact, he was still in complete disbelief that Miles had gone along with it, and responded the way he did. He shook his head, having had enough of thinking, and focusing on the _doing_.

Scott wanted _more._

“Miles, please--” The clone leaned over him, shifting his legs between Miles’. “I need you. So much…”

“Yeah,” Miles slurred, a hand fisting the front of his shirt. “Me too.”

Scott leaned to the side, reaching under the couch for his trusty bottle of lube, and several other items saved for his late-night masturbation sessions. Miles pulled his head back, blinking and trying to understand what he was looking at. 

Why was… what was he doing?

The clone latched onto either side of Miles’ tracksuit pants, pulling them off in a single motion-- his briefs included. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this vulnerable-- it made his heart race with anticipation.

Scott sat back long enough to pour out a decent amount of lube, eyes concentrated and calculating, drinking in the sight before him.

Miles gasped as the cold, wet fingers brushed by his legs, poking experimentally between his cheeks. He tensed, realising what was to come next-- and trying to remember just how long it had been since he’d last touched himself like this.

The moan he made surprised them both, as Scott slipped in a single finger, wasting no time.

Scott stared down at the man below him, noting his expression was a mix of neediness and embarrassment. He felt his dick twitch in anticipation, struggling to keep himself under control. He couldn’t rush himself.

“Don’t act like you haven’t done this before,” Scott chuckled.

Miles kept trying to close his legs in embarrassment, pulling down his shirt to cover his shame. He was insecure enough at their difference in body shape-- Miles knowing full well that he’d put on weight lately, from the beer would be his best guess. Meanwhile, Scott was _flawless._

“It’s not that--” Miles bit his lip, stopping another curse from slipping out. “It’s just-- _different_ when I do it--”

“I fail to see how this would be different,” Scott replied with a shaky breath. “Don’t think about it, just enjoy it…” 

He just needed to find that one special spot, the one he knew all too well. It was right around the--

“Oh, _fuck_ \--!” Miles moaned, arching his back.

Scott laughed, pulling in close, a devilish grin on his face. He’d finally found it. Exactly where he remembered it. Now the fun could begin.

He glared at his clone. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ \--” 

Scott curled his finger, hitting that delicate spot once again. Miles twisted to his side with another moan, eyes watering at the intensity.

“Bastard,” Miles muttered.

Scott nipped at his ear. “Relax, I won’t abuse it-- but you _did_ deserve that.”

The burning pressure and mixture of pleasure and pain made it hard for Miles to focus. He wasn’t used to being out of control, of melting to the touch of another. It had been so long since he’d felt anything like this. But he liked it-- too much to admit. He felt needed. He felt wanted. He felt loved. He was going to take as much of it as he could, for as long as he could.

“You’re enjoying this more than I thought,” Scott commented.

“Fuck you--” He spat on instinct.

Scott’s eyebrows shot up, as his movements stilled. “I can barely control myself right now, Miles. I’m trying my best not to get ahead of myself.”

Miles only now realised what he’d said. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, about what they were doing, or what Scott was planning.

“Wait, you really want to--”

“It’s okay,” Scott interrupted, trying his best to sooth his concerns. “I just want to make you feel good.”

The look on Scott’s face was one of hunger. He knew exactly what he wanted. He was going to _devour_ Miles.

“But I… won’t do anything if you don’t want me to.” He added, waiting for a confirmation of some sort. “...Miles?”

This guy… his _clone--_ despite their differences, despite their relationship-- he was willing to actually _sleep_ with him? In what world did that make any sense? 

Maybe it was out of pity. Perhaps he was simply lonely, and desperate for a fuck, regardless of who it was. At this point, Miles wasn’t entirely sure if he cared if he was just being used to get off.

“You’re only doing this because you're drunk,” he stated bitterly. “...and _horny_.” 

He’d probably fuck _anyone_ at this point. Miles just happened to be closest. Was he being used? Did he care at this point? It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own needs.

“Fuck, Miles--” The clone stared down at him, feeling hurt by his words. “Is that really what you think?”

“Well why else would you be--”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m going insane,” Scott admitted, lips in a thin line. “The alcohol was liquid courage. I’m not as strong as you think. Even I need help. But I… I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Miles replied, averting his eyes. “But, I… I don’t understand-- why would you even… with me--”

“You’re the one I want,” Scott interrupted him, breathlessly. “That’s the problem-- that’s _always_ been the problem.” 

“B-but _why?_ ” Miles asked in disbelief. “You’re independent, you can have anyone you want. There are far better choices, so why are you--”

Scott cut him off with a brief kiss. “Because I want _you_ , Miles. It’s not that hard to comprehend.”

Miles was shocked by his words, mouth snapping shut with an audible click. But Scott couldn’t be _serious_ \-- no, he couldn’t want _him_ \-- Miles was… he was _worthless_. His clone deserved far better than anything he could give him.

But maybe, just for tonight-- they could enjoy each other’s company.

Scott slipped in a second digit, causing Miles to tense suddenly, the burn beginning to cause discomfort. His knuckles were white from how hard he was holding onto Scott; feeling his senses overloaded, face burning so hot he felt like he’d melt.

“I’m… not worth it,” Miles bit out around a moan. He was so scared to be loved, to be cared about. It could only end in disaster if he opened up his heart again. Even if it was to someone who could truly understand him. “You _can’t_...”

“Yes, you are.” Scott kissed him again, whispering against his lips. He didn’t want to hear any more self-hating or self-doubting thoughts from the man beneath him. “If you're not going to believe me, then I’ll _show_ you.”

Miles had no idea what he meant by his words, but he could take a wild guess.

“I'm going to fuck you, Miles.” Scott twisted his fingers inside him, feeling Miles tense, a moan unable to be stifled. 

“Fuck…” Miles whispered, the mixture of horniness and fear of the unknown twisting together in a bizarre conflict of emotions. He looked down, taking in his mostly nude state, and how unbearably lewd he appeared-- watching Scott’s fingers thrust in and out of him at a ridiculous pace. 

Scott noticed his gaze, stilling his movements momentarily, causing a surprised sound from Miles that was to die for. He sounded so pathetically desperate-- and Scott couldn’t wait to fuck him senseless. But he wasn’t ready yet-- and he had to be patient. Just a few more minutes, and at least one more--

Miles writhed at his touch, throwing his head back with a shout of pleasure, as Scott slipped in a third finger. He bit his lip, trying to relax more, to not focus on the pain. He knew it wouldn’t last long, or at least-- he fucking _hoped_ it wouldn’t. He just wanted to feel _good_.

“Shit,” Scott cursed, licking his lips. “You should see what you look like, right now.”

“The fuck else do you think I’m looking at?” Miles gasped in frustration, burying his head into the other man’s chest again from embarrassment.

He made a good point though; he did get to look at his own face the entire time. “I hope you don’t get sick of it anytime soon,” the clone smirked.

“Like I even _could_.”

Miles’ hands were clinging onto the clone’s shirt, bringing them closer together. His face was practically buried in Scott’s neck-- too afraid at this point to show him the faces he was making. He moved his hands after a moment of hesitation, running his fingers through Scott’s hair, resting on the back of his neck.

“I can’t--” Miles begged, aching for more. “ _Please_ \--”

“Tell me-- I need you to say it,” Scott requested, fucking him with his fingers, lavishing the way Miles pushed back against him. 

“Please,” Miles whined, making his best attempt to grab at the other man’s shoulders. He was shaking, and no amount of self control was getting through. He had no idea what he wanted, and his own feelings only confused him further-- but one thing he was sure of, was that right now, he wanted-- no, _needed_ \-- Scott. “ _Please_ … f-fuck me.”

There was the magic phrase. Scott had to do this before they sobered up; before Miles would inevitably come to his senses and reject him. He tried not to dwell on the thought, and focus on the task at hand.

Miles whimpered at the sudden, empty feeling inside of him, hands covering his face. He was so ashamed at how much he liked this-- he had to blame it on the drugs, or the alcohol-- or _something--_ because the truth was far too hard for him to accept.

Scott grabbed one of the nearby pillows, previously forgotten on the floor; placing it under Miles’ hips for a better angle. He threw one of his legs over his shoulder, causing Miles to make a sound of discomfort at his lack of flexibility.

“I know you’ve never done this before. Neither have I.” He reached for the bottle of lube once more, slicking himself up. “If you want to get _technical_ , I’m still a virgin.”

Miles scoffed. “Yeah, _you wish_.”

The reality of what was to come caused a sudden spike in fear. They were both crossing a line they’d never be able to return to; with no way of going back. It was completely uncharted territory, and Miles was beginning to wonder if he was in his right mind to do this.

“Just-- please let me know if I hurt you.” Scott rested his head next to Miles’, leaning over him precariously. He pulled Miles’ hips a little higher, dicks rubbing against each other.

Miles let out an uneven breath. “Hurry up-- before I change my mind.”

Scott licked his lips; one arm holding Miles close to him, the other helping line himself up. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this-- he couldn’t believe just how much Miles wanted him-- could it be possible that Miles felt something for him as well? It didn’t matter-- Scott was so desperate to fuck him that he’d leave the thinking for later.

He groaned as he felt his dick enveloped by the warmth of the other man-- even after all the effort he took to prep him, Miles felt impossibly tight. A moan still tumbled off his tongue. He felt relieved after all these months of denying himself his pleasure-- he could practically cry from the influx of emotions it brought on.

He loved Miles so much, he couldn’t put it into words. Being this close to him was all he ever wanted, and better than he had imagined. 

Miles whined at the intrusion, body tensing; his eyes watering at the sudden stretch and burn. He bit his bottom lip so hard he drew blood. He brought his hands down to Scott’s hips, setting the pace himself-- they couldn’t go too fast, at least not without pain.

It would take time for them both to adjust.

Scott was a slow as he could possibly be; inch by painfully slow inch. He waited for Miles to relax, to adjust, before continuing again. It was maddening, and it took the very little remaining amount of willpower Scott had to not lose control, and thrust in all at once. He was so desperate to fuck him into the couch-- he only hoped Miles knew what he was in for.

Both of Miles’ hands are grasping at Scott's back, holding on for dear life and pulling him closer. Scott moves his hand to the head of Miles’ dick, ghosting a thumb over the head, just the way he likes it. He was already hard again, and he hoped the sensation would help him relax, and forget about the pain and discomfort.

“Miles, please… tell me you’re alright,” Scott whined, pausing halfway in. “Tell me to stop, now, otherwise I won’t.”

“ _Scott_ \--” Miles sobbed, conflicted at how his body cried for more, and hated the pain at the same time. He wanted this to get to the part where it just felt _good_ . “Fuck, just-- more, _please-_ -”

“I’m sorry, I’m reaching my limits here--” Scott leaned down, breathing into his ear. His hand tightened on Miles’ hip, keeping it in place. “--I can't hold back when it’s you.” 

He was certainly thankful for the alcohol right now. He was sure he’d be far too anxious to go through with this otherwise. But Miles was still ridiculously tense, and he didn’t want to cause any more pain than necessary.

“Relax--”

“I’m trying,” Miles gasped, legs shaking around the other man’s hips. “Still feels _weird_ \--”

“I’ll get better, I promise.” 

Scott felt as if he was hypersensitive, or something along those lines… because, _fuck--_ he didn’t remember sex ever feeling this _intense_. He was losing control-- his body begging for him to fuck the other man senseless.

They were so close, just a few more minutes--

After what felt like an eternity, he finally bottomed out. 

It felt better than anything Scott could have possibly imagined.

“Fuck--!” Miles swore, thighs tightening around the clone’s waist. 

“Jeez, Miles-- you’re so _noisy_ ,” Scott teased. 

He used all his self-control to stay still, focusing on Miles, and the hands digging into his back. He still couldn’t believe this was really happening, and he was hoping it would never end. All of his thoughts focused on capturing this moment, saving it to memory-- the sights, the sounds, the fucking _feeling_ of Miles--

He wanted to hold on to him forever.

“Miles--” Scott pulled back, desperate to see his face. “Miles, are you--”

“Please, I can’t handle it-- I need you to move, _please_ \--”

Scott hooked an arm under one of Miles’ legs once more, pulling it towards his shoulder for a better angle. He allowed the man beneath him a moment to adjust, before he pulled out slowly, and thrust back in-- flush against him Miles tensed, letting out a high pitched moan, fingers digging into Scott’s arms.

As soon as he saw that expression on Miles’ face, he knew he could no longer hold himself back. He wanted _more_.

Miles pulled him down by his shirt, moaning into his mouth as he kissed him feverishly. He hooked his free leg around Scott’s waist, keeping him close. Scott picked up the pace, fucking him relentlessly, repeating Miles’ name over and over like a mantra. He could no longer silence himself, letting every sound of pleasure escape him, as he surrendered himself to the feelings of bliss. Any pain Miles had felt had completely melted away, replaced with nothing but intense pleasure-- and he could feel it, building inside him again, begging for release.

Using one arm to keep him steady, Scott slipped his other hand down between them, curling around Miles’ dick. He stroked him in time with his own thrusts, even as they became more and more uneven and ragged.

“Wait, I’m gonna--” 

Scott felt Miles tighten around him, and he groaned in response. 

It felt so intense-- he began losing his rhythm, thrusts becoming erratic. “Miles--“ Scott cried out, feeling how close he was. “Fuck, _yes_ \--!”

Scott found Miles’ lips again, claiming them hungrily, soaking up his moans of pleasure. He quickened his strokes, gasping as Miles finally came with a cry, throwing his head back; covering their chests in warm release.

The clone wasn’t far behind-- after a few more thrusts, he buried himself deep as he could. He came with Miles’ name on his lips, burying his face in his neck, keeping a firm grip on the other man’s hips.

Scott collapsed, trying his best not to crush the man beneath him. He wrapped his arms around Miles, keeping him as close as he could. He listened to his shallow breathing, feeling the hands around his neck weaken, falling away. 

Miles hadn’t felt this good in _years_ \-- and as he came down from the high, his eyes refused to stay open, his exhaustion catching up with him. He could see his clone staring at him with concern; hands running down the side of his face, pushing his hair from his sweat-soaked brow. Scott was so gentle with him, his gestures delicate and caring-- he couldn’t get enough of it.

The clone took a moment to pull back, seeing his work up close. Miles looked positively _fucked_ , in all sense of the word; his breathing was heavy, hair dishevelled and body covered in sweat, his chest covered in come.

Scott didn’t want to let go. He fucking _loved_ being like this-- connected so intimately, a sight for only him to see. He didn’t want to pull out, _just_ yet-- he wasn’t nearly satisfied enough. He didn’t want this to end. 

He knew this would be his only chance.

Curse his insatiable sex drive.

Scott’s legs were shaking, but he was far from finished. He could already feel his dick twitching in anticipation, erection kicking in with continued interest.

“Wait--” Miles’ voice squeaked unexpectedly, feeling the other man move inside him. “What are you--” He cut himself off with a tired moan, hands gripping the cushions beneath.

Scott leaned in close, holding his thigh in place. “I just need--” He paused a moment to consider: what _did_ he need? 

He needed... _more._ He couldn’t stop himself. It was exactly as Scott had originally feared. He’d barely had even a _taste_ of what he wanted. The opportunity was still here; and he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure presented to him. He needed _Miles_.

“I need _you_ ,” Scott breathed out, with a small, experimental thrust.

Miles groaned uncomfortably. He was exhausted, and his hold on the clone was pathetically weak. “I _cant_ \--” he insisted. He wanted to say more, but words were lost to him, tongue feeling heavy and uncooperative.

“It's okay,” Scott insisted, running his hand through Miles’ hair. “Just relax. I got you.”

He leaned back enough to get a good look at the both of them; admiring how Miles no longer had the energy to act embarrassed by his predicament. He looked amazing like this; and Scott could only pray that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get the opportunity to stare at such a sight. He took an extra moment to try his best to write it to memory.

Scott reached for Miles’ right thigh, maneuvering it towards his left, and slowly moving him around until he was on his stomach. Miles buried his head in the nearest cushion, legs shaking as his hips were lifted, and pulled back flush against his clone.

Miles was in a state of disbelief-- Scott was acting like he was a fucking _teenager_ , with the libido to match. He certainly didn’t have the stamina for this-- but his body and voice disagreed. His body had become overly sensitive, the smallest movement causing a mixture of pain and pleasure.

They moaned in unison as Scott thrust into him once more, setting up a rhythmic pace. Their movements were becoming sloppy, and Miles could feel the come drying against his skin, and sweat trickling down his back. Scott started fucking him again, gently and desperately, saying something Miles couldn’t quite make out. He nipped at his neck, forehead pressing between his shoulder blades. His fingers were digging into Miles’ hips, using it for leverage-- he was barely able to keep up, going limp in his grasp, allowing himself to be used.

Fuck-- Miles had never had so many orgasms in such a short amount of time-- he was far too old for this. His body was shaking, on the verge of another, so close to slipping over the edge--

Scott calling out his name against his ear was all it took.

Miles could feel his consciousness slipping-- his arms and legs completely giving out. He could feel Scott was much the same, his chest pressed against Miles’ back, keeping him in place; as he came with a grunt. Miles whined pathetically as he pulled out, a sudden sense of emptiness causing his toes to curl.

Scott shifted their position, allowing him to spoon the man in his arms. They fit together perfectly, and he used the opportunity to press his face against the back of Miles’ neck, finding the nape and kissing it gently. He trailed down towards his shoulder, leaving a line of love-bites as he went.

Miles groaned, hissing at the sensation-- it was the best he could do, the combination of alcohol and exhaustion preventing his mouth from functioning any longer. 

“Cute,” Scott mumbled against his ear, hand snaking around his middle. “You feel so good...”

Miles didn’t want to pass out, but he was losing the ongoing battle-- eyes becoming too heavy to fight back against.

The last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep, was Scott’s voice whispering to him softly, hands touching every inch of his skin. The words only further confused him, filling him with unanswered questions as he entered a dreamless sleep.

_I’m sorry._

_Please--_

_Miles..._

_Forgive me._

* * *

Scott felt like complete and utter _shit_ . His eyes complained at the slightest slither of light, muscles ached with every movement, tongue sticking awkwardly in his dry mouth-- and he was warm-- _ridiculously_ warm. 

Was this _really_ what a hangover was going to feel like from now on?

Something moved against him and he nearly yelped in surprised. He pulled back, staring at the object in his arms. Messy hair, with a very familiar neck… Now covered in love bites and teeth marks… He swallowed, looking further down. They were both naked, except for a shirt each-- remnants of the previous nights activities sticking to them both. 

Oh, fuck.

Had he… what happened? Did they really... _do_ something last night?

Alright, he wasn’t going to panic-- Miles was asleep, thankfully, so he was going to rest here, and think, and spend every ounce of self control he had left to _not_ freak out. His mind was foggy, memories a hazy mess. 

A face flashed before his eyes, Miles-- on his back, pained expression, calling out to him, moaning with pleasure.

Oh, _fuck._

No, _no_ \-- had he really lost control? Had he really hurt him? Why couldn’t he remember properly? He prayed that he hadn’t forced him into it, but his memories brought him no comfort. There was no way he could have done that-- no matter how drunk he was. 

Scott shook his head, brushing his hair back with his fingers. He felt disgusting, not only from how sticky and sweaty he was-- but from his lack of memory, questioning if he truly did have the conscience to control himself, even in a drunken state of mind.

He needed a shower first. Some time to think. Then he could run a bath-- for Miles, of course-- there was no doubt he’d be in all sorts of uncomfortable pain when he woke up. He cringed-- remembering the sight of endless hickies and bite marks across Miles’ neck and chest.

He still had no idea what to do, or what to say. It was only a matter of time before the other man woke up-- and they’d have to come to the realisation of what happened between them last night... and what it meant for them going forward.

Would Miles remember last night's events, and inevitably push him away? Would he be scared of him now? Fuck-- this was exactly what he had always feared-- and he’d brought it on himself. 

It was all over for him now.

* * *

Miles couldn’t understand why he was in so much pain. He couldn’t even focus enough to tell where it was coming from-- it felt like it was all over him, but the throbbing pain in his head made it impossible to focus. His arms and legs ached, and refused to cooperate as he moved to get up. His eyes could barely stay open long enough to see, but he had no choice-- he felt like he was dying of thirst.

He found out all too soon that his legs had absolutely no strength in them, as he landed on the ground with a loud thud. He instinctively looked back to the bed, only to find it empty-- which is when he noted the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. 

Using the bedside table as leverage, Miles tried for a second time to get up, but he made no progress, feeling what little energy he had escape him. It was then that he looked down at himself, sensing something was off-- he felt gross and sweaty, which was the first thing he noticed, but even stranger still-- he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt. That didn’t make any sense-- he _never_ slept without pants on.

But then again, he couldn’t remember how he even ended up in bed in the first place.

“Miles?” A sudden hand was on his lower back, easing him upright. “Hey, I’ve got you…”

The words barely registered in his head, which continued to pound with every beat of his heart. He felt like he was going to be sick, stomach churning, the world spinning around him.

“What happened…?” He murmured, unable to tear his eyes from the floor. “Scott?”

“I’m here,” the clone replied, swinging his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Miles’ eyes flew open as he was pulled into the other man’s arms, bridal-style. Even though his legs refused to cooperate with him, he still felt embarrassed to be handled in such a way. Still, he couldn’t understand why Scott refused to meet his gaze. Or the fact that he looked rather... sad.

Scott placed him gently down in the bathtub, the warm water instantly making him relax. This was exactly what he needed right now, and he didn’t even know it. He must have had one hell of an alcohol binge last night-- his memories still failing him. 

The clone lingered a moment, shifting his weight awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry, I just--” Scott’s breath hitched, causing him to pause a moment. “I overdid it.”

“It's okay,” Miles replied in a daze, unsure of what the other man was rambling on about. “It’s fine-- I’m fine… I just need some coffee.”

“Sure, uh-- I’ll go make some real quick.” He stood in the doorway, eyes focused on the ground. “You just... take it easy, okay?”

Miles couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering closed; the warmth of the water around him soothing his sore muscles. It was absurdly comfortable, and he was beginning to find it difficult not to doze off.

Thoughts and feelings began to creep into his mind, and his clone’s face flashed before him, saying something he couldn’t quite make out. The more he focused on it, the clearer the image became.

_I’m going to fuck you, Miles._

He sat up abruptly, select memories of the previous night now playing before his eyes. The sudden movement caused a spike of pain to shoot through his back. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, hand moving down between his legs. He hesitated a moment, maneuvering underneath his wet shirt, and biting his lip as he slipped a finger inside himself. It was exactly as he feared; a stifled moan escaping him as he felt his insides hot and sticky.

Fuck. It wasn’t a dream, then. It really _did_ happen.

That’s why Scott was acting so weird. That’s why he was ridden with so many aches and pains. That’s what his clone was referring to before.

They’d... last night, they drank too much, and...

Miles felt himself blushing so hard that he was sure his face was completely flushed red. He brought a hand to his mouth, brushing gently over his lips, remembering the sensation of the other man’s lips.

What... what had they _done?_

This wasn’t good. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to find Scott, they needed to talk-- and most importantly, Miles needed to understand what had happened last night-- and _why_.

He couldn’t help but feel... _used._

* * *

Scott fumbled around the kitchen, trying not to focus on his uneven breathing, and how hard his heart was beating in his chest. He was filled to the brim with terror, and had no idea what to do. That brief moment with Miles had made him concerned-- he wasn’t sure if he even remembered what had happened.

Perhaps it was only a matter of time.

He turned, finding the coffee maker and messing with the controls. His hands were shaking violently, making such a simple job all the more difficult. His breath was hitching at each memory that came back to him-- every word he said, every touch he made against the other man’s skin.

Scott pushed off the counter, finding himself in the living room. He was pacing back and forth, staring at his hands, cursing under his breath at his sheer stupidity. He knew he should have left. He knew he should have buried his feelings deeper. He knew he should have stayed away from Miles.

Fuck fuck fuck _fuck fuck fuck--!_

His life was over.

Scott squeezed his eyes shut; tiny flashes of memory continuing to cloud his vision.

_His hand on a thigh, pulled up against his hip--_

_A tongue down his throat--_

_Miles pleading and moaning against his lips--_

Oh, _fuck._

Miles was too drunk to consent. He was too drunk to know what he was doing. Scott was supposed to take care of him, not take _advantage_ of him. Everything about this situation was completely _fucked_.

The line he’d tried to set up between them had been crossed. There was no going back now. He was screwed. 

He just-- he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t admit it to himself, or to Miles.

He had to get out of here.

Swiping the half-empty bottle of wine off the kitchen counter, Scott disappeared out the front door, leaving the rest of his belongings behind.

* * *

Whether or not there were other people around, Scott didn’t have the interest to care anymore.

He was sitting by the lakeside; the morning sun shining in his eyes, lighting up the surroundings and keeping him warm. He was hunched over, arms resting on his legs, taking the occasional swig from the wine bottle in his hand.

Words couldn’t describe how he felt-- he was sad, and angry-- filled with regret and indecision. He had no idea if he wanted to laugh or cry, his frustration peaking as the thoughts in his head continued to overcrowd him in endless noise.

Scott’s breath hitched, as he heard footsteps approaching from behind him. A pair of legs stopped by his side, silent and unmoving. He startled as the figure sat beside him, closer than he was anticipating, gaze focussed forward.

The clone tensed-- awaiting for the inevitable questions to assault him in a flurry. 

“I've never seen you drunk before,” Miles commented, breaking the silence.

“Me neither,” Scott chuckled awkwardly. That was not what he was expecting to hear at all. “Turns out that my tolerance is _much_ lower than I remember.”

It must be a _clone-thing_. Would make about as much sense as anything else in his life.

“And, tell me… _why_ are you drinking?” Miles questioned. His eyes flickered around them, noting the sun rising in the distance. “Rather early, isn’t it?”

“Why do you think?” He replied bitterly, a hand covering his face. “You _know_ why.”

He still couldn’t bear to turn his head, to stare into the eyes of the man he cared for.

“You regret it that much, huh?”

His eyes went wide, the question catching him completely off guard. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at Miles with an uneasy response on his lips.

“No, I-- I don’t know,” Scott leaned forward, grip tightening around the wine bottle. “I... hurt you. I made you--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Miles interrupted with a harsh tone. “You didn’t make me do _anything_ , and you certainly didn't _hurt_ me.”

Lies. They were all _lies_.

Miles’ voice was enough for Scott to tell how much he was hurt.

He placed a hand next to him, moving to get up. “I’ll just pack my things and--”

Miles grabbed his arm, pulling him back down to the ground. “No you won’t.” His tone was harsh, but his expression was caring. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

He blinked, mouth slightly agape.

“Do you really think I don't care about you at all?” Miles asked, voice breaking slightly. “Do you really think I don’t want you around?”

Scott leaned forward, hiding his face in both his hands. He grit his teeth, knowing that if he said what he wanted, that he’d completely break down. He didn’t want Miles to see him like that.

“Look, I know that-- that we were _drunk_ , but…” Miles trailed off, causing Scott to finally look at him curiously. He looked like he was having difficulties asking whatever was on his mind. “I have to ask... _why?_ ”

“Why what?” The clone replied. He knew what he was implying, but he had to be certain.

“You know what I'm talking about,” Miles’ blush creeped further up his neck, enveloping his cheeks. “Why would you-- you know, do that... with _me_?”

The answer was clear, but getting it off his chest was something he had to do. This had all gone too far. He was tired of this. Miles deserved better-- and he deserved to know.

“Because I want to,” Scott admitted, swallowing the lump in his throat. He bit his lip, unable to tear his eyes away. “I… love you, Miles.”

He could tell by the change in Miles’ expression-- that was _not_ the answer he was expecting to hear.

“I see.” Miles crept a little closer, hugging his legs. “How long has this been going on for?”

Fuck-- were they _really_ going to talk about this now? Here?

Scott grit his teeth, failing to stifle a sob. “I don't know. A few weeks? Maybe.”

“Why didn't you _tell_ me?”

“Isn’t it _obvious?_ ” He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

“Are you…” Miles trailed off, and Scott wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask, but he sounded scared. “Did you think I’d leave? Did you think I’d hate you for telling me?”

“That would be the only _logical_ answer, wouldn’t it?”

“No, I-- I don’t know. Between the two of us, _you’re_ the perfect one.” Miles’ voice was almost a whisper. “I’m just... the garbage that didn’t stay dead. I’m no use to anyone.”

Scott’s heart ached every time he heard Miles talk himself down-- how did he not know how much worth he had?

“Don’t say that--”

“It’s true,” Miles interrupted. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The two of them were leaning back on their hands, mere centimetres apart.

“What about you?” Scott asked. “How do _you_ feel?”

Miles could have acted dumb, and asked him what he meant. But he knew. He knew _exactly_ what he was referring to.

“I’m…” Miles trailed off, leaning forward with a sigh. “I’m not entirely _sure_. This is all… very new to me.” He reached out, placing a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “Scott--”

Suddenly Miles found himself on his back, Scott holding him down and looking at him with unblinking eyes. He was flushed, cheeks stained with tears, breath hitching.

“Miles, I… I’m-- it’s so hard to control myself.” He bit out each and every word, pained by what he had to admit. “I’m trying not to smother you, or hurt you, but if I get too close to you--”

Miles had no idea he was hurting in such a way.

“I tried resisting, then I thought I could control myself enough-- and look what I did to you. This is why I thought it better to… _This_ is why I wanted to-- to _die_. I knew this would end with regret.”

“But--”

“I wanted you and was so sure you’d say no-- so I got us drunk. I was so selfish, not even considering your feelings. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel that way, or to think I just wanted to take advantage of you.” He pulled himself away, turning his back on Miles. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“I had no idea…” Miles sat up, knocking the bottle away in an attempt for Scott to sober up. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for. It’s my fault. I’m scared and-- still not sure what I’ll do if I lose control again.” Scott blushed, placing a hand over his face to make sure he didn’t look directly at Miles. “I… need you so much, it’s unbearable.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Miles grabbed at his hand, pulling it away. He was hesitant, yet determined. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Scott felt his heart stop, as Miles slipped his arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. 

“As strange as this all is… I don’t regret it.”

“Miles…”

“Come on, let’s go home.” Hands reached up, cupping either side of Scott’s face, shifting his gaze so that Miles could stare him directly in the eyes. “We’ll talk.”

* * *

“I really haven’t been the same; being a clone.” Scott fidgeted on the couch, appearing smaller than he was. “I mean sure, no scars, and all that, but… There’s so much else. I wasn’t sure whether my thoughts, and my feelings-- if they were really mine, you know? Or some weird side effect, or… I don’t know.”

“This has been weighing on you for a while, hasn’t it?” Miles asked, passing him a glass of water, and taking a seat beside him. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner.”

“So... you don’t, you know…” Scott’s fingers were drumming along the sides of the glass. “Do you feel anything, at all? About me? Be honest. Please.”

That was a loaded question-- one that Miles hadn’t had nearly enough time to think about, or consider.

“I’m… still not sure. I need time to think, but I wouldn’t say _no_ .” Miles hoped the warm blush on his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. “I have had a few strange thoughts and feelings towards you, but-- I guess I just tried to ignore it. I was convinced that I was a very unlikable burden, to be honest. That no one would ever want to put up with me. I thought you only stayed with me because you felt like you _had_ to.”

“That’s fair... I did _and_ said some terrible things in order to push you away. But I meant what I said, last night-- at least, of what I remember. If this is too weird for you, or if you don’t want to be around me anymore, I understand. I can leave anytime.”

Miles latched onto Scott’s hand suddenly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m… I _like_ this. Whatever this is. I like being around you, and I, uh--” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unable to look him in the eye. “I didn’t _hate_ it, you know.”

“Oh. Well, that’s-- yeah, that’s good to know.” Scott was stumbling his words, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “I really wasn’t expecting you to say that. I was afraid you were just going along with it...”

“It was a little like that, I’ll be honest. I was confused at first-- scared even. But it was really nice to be… _wanted_.”

The two of them had slowly crept closer and closer to one another, their joined hands slowly shifting, fingers intertwined. 

“Kinda weird being attracted to a guy who looks like your twin,” Miles said, breaking the silence.

Scott laughed. “Yeah, it’s not the most traditional relationship, that’s for sure.”

“I’m okay with that,” Miles offered.

There was a somber beat of silence. Scott’s smile fell away.

“People will never understand--”

“I don’t care what people think of me,” Miles declared. “You matter more than that.”

Scott blinked. He was stunned. Really? He-- he _mattered_?

Around Miles, he felt like he had a purpose. He felt attractive, likeable, desirable-- he wanted more, even if he was still confused for the future it meant for them.

The closeness to Miles was like a drug-- he still craved it every moment of every day.

“Miles, could I--” He faltered as their eyes met, but he had to remain determined. “I don’t mean to sound _forward_ , but-- can I... kiss you again?”

“Y-yeah,” Miles stuttered, cheeks stained crimson. “Sure.”

Scott was hesitant and uncertain; shaking and full of nerves. He brushed a stray curl from the other man’s forehead, hand resting on his cheek. Miles mirrored his actions, hand slipping behind Scott’s neck, using it as leverage to pull him forwards.

Their lips met in a brief kiss, and Miles surprised himself with how much he enjoyed it. As strange as the sensation felt-- it was nothing like what he’d experienced before. It was rough, the stubble scratching at his skin, calloused hands keeping him close.

“You feel so good…” Scott nuzzled into his neck, mumbling something, hot breath causing him to shiver.

Scott pulled the other man close, arms tracing around his back, chests flush against another. He could admit that something as brief as a kiss would turn him on-- but he didn’t want to overstep the still-fragile boundaries they shared.

“Again?” Miles asked in disbelief. “ _Already_?”

“I don’t know what they did to me when they cloned me, but--“ Scott whined, placing his hands on the other’s hips. “If I don't get off at least five times a day, I’m going to go insane.”

Miles wasn’t sure if he could possibly keep up with the demand-- but he could _try_.

“Okay, okay-- I get it, I _do_ \--“ Miles felt almost pity for him, feeling the telltale hardness of the other man rubbing against his thigh. “Here--“ He offered, fumbling at the clone’s pants. “Just calm down for a minute.”

He felt a hot breath against his neck as he wrapped his fingers around Scott in a firm grip. The good thing about this situation is he knew exactly what he liked, and exactly what would send him over the edge.

Miles felt a shiver down his spine as the other man’s hands roamed up his back. He couldn’t shake just how weird this situation still was to him, but he couldn’t complain either-- it was so nice to be touched, to be _wanted--_

He wasn’t expecting a soft moan to echo beside his ear, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to look. Scott was biting his lip, stifling a flurry of noises that begged to escape from him.

Miles blushed at the sight. Did he... had he _always_ looked like that when he masturbated? 

“Miles… _please_ ,” Scott begged, hands firmly grasping his hips. “I need you.”

* * *

“Before we go in there, should we-- I think we should keep _this--_ ” Scott gestured between the two of them. “You know, maybe not--”

“Keep it a secret.” Miles stood a little tensely, taking a half-step back. “Of course. I get it.”

“Yeah…”

“Temporarily, though,” Miles clarified with a brief smile. “We can’t hide _forever_. But… there’s still a lot we need to work out with Kate first, among other things.”

“You’re right,” Scott agreed. 

Straightening his posture, he reached towards the door, giving it a solid few knocks. He could feel his anxiety growing, like a lump stuck in his throat. He hoped this would be over soon.

Scott still had his doubts about how this evening was going to play out. He wasn’t entirely sure what Kate’s feelings were now, towards himself, and Miles. For all he knew, she might still be interested in getting back together-- and in all honesty, Scott wasn’t sure if Miles would say no to such a gesture.

It was one of his biggest fears.

One thing Scott was certain of, was that he wouldn’t give Miles to _anyone_ , let alone the woman who caused the last few months of Miles’ suffering. 

Even with his best attempt to keep a calm expression, he was panicking-- he could admit that. There was no way this night was going to be over without at least a _little_ bit of drama-- that was to be expected, especially with a divorce most likely on the horizon.

The moment when the door swung open could only be described as _awkward_.

“Miles... how are you?” Kate asked, rather awkwardly. 

“Oh, well--” He pulled at the hem of his sleeve uncomfortably. “Just reevaluating my life, and all that.”

She flashed Scott a look. “I was beginning to think I’d never hear from you again.”

Miles scratched the back of his neck in a fit of nerves. “Well, you know-- been a bit busy lately, had a lot going on.”

Scott was sure that Miles wouldn’t bring up the fact that he’d been hospitalised recently, or that he’d only just recovered from a _near-death experience_. Tensions were high enough right now, and Scott knew that Kate would probably be more than happy to use it against Scott. 

He knew she hated him enough already.

* * *

They sat around the dining room table, and the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Scott felt too uneasy to eat anything, not trusting his stomach to keep anything down with his fit of nerves and anxiety coursing through him. 

Even against his best efforts, he couldn’t stop staring at Kate with a distasteful glance. He was already in full-on _overprotective_ mode-- but it was something he couldn’t control when it came to Miles.

“Look, Miles... I know this is hard. But we just... weren't happy together,” Kate started. “We were going nowhere, fast, and the life I wanted was drifting further and further away--”

“Are you seeing someone else?” Miles asked innocently, changing the topic of conversation. 

Kate glanced away, closing her eyes with a brief sigh, before eventually turning back to Miles.

“Yes,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I met him through work, actually. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks.”

 _A few weeks?_ This one, maybe. Not the others.

Sometimes, Scott wished he was oblivious to what she’d been up to since-- well, technically, since _before_ their so-called ‘break-up’.

Miles appeared to want to say something in return, but instead, he smiled in acknowledgement of her words-- but it was that small, uncomfortable, _sad_ smile that he did. The one that made Scott’s heart ache.

“I just... really hope we can still be friends,” Kate continued. “I've known you half my life, I don't want to throw that away. I care about you, Miles. I always have and I always will. I... want you to find happiness as well.”

“I already have,” Miles replied, shrugging her off. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m doing fine.”

Scott tried his best to stifle the joyous sound that desperately threatened to escape him. He couldn’t believe it. Not that he should be jumping to conclusions, of course-- but he hoped Miles was, in some way, referring to him as well.

As their conversation continued, it was obvious that his soon-to-be ex-wife was either giving him the cold shoulder, or pretending he didn’t exist altogether.

“I’m starting to feel like a third wheel here,” Scott commented dryly, fingers drumming along the tabletop.

“Look,” Kate pulled back, looking him up and down. “Uh--”

“Scott,” he stated firmly. “That’s my name. Feel free to use it.”

“Right, _Scott_ \--” She paused, as if it felt weird to say. “I know I haven’t treated you fairly. I apologise for how I spoke to you the other day, but… this whole situation-- it’s still so confusing.”

Scott shrugged, completely unfazed. “I wasn’t as polite as I should have been either.” 

* * *

As the conversation dragged on, Scott was becoming more and more irritated by not only the way she spoke towards Miles, but the way she was treating him-- a clone-- purely for being what he was.

“It’s _different_ for us.” Kate was directly referring to herself and Miles, that much was obvious. “We have a shared past, _trauma_ \--”

“If you’re implying that I’ve suddenly forgotten all the shit we went through, you’re _wrong_.”

“You don’t get it.” Kate held her ground, hands balled into fists. “It _changes_ you.”

“Only if you _let_ it,” Scott retaliated. “You can actually learn to move past things, Kate. I have. Even _Miles_ has.”

He felt his hands clench beneath the table, his frustration spilling out. He was really hoping to get through this without a fight, but he was reaching his limits.

“Miles and I have a shared past,” Scott explained, trying to remain calm. He’d had enough of her excuses; he’d had enough of these pointless arguments. “We’re the _same_ \-- if you want a relationship, in any form, with one of us-- then the _other_ is included. That’s how it is.”

“Our relationship has been on the fritz for _years,_ ” Kate shot back. “If you didn’t turn up--”

“Regardless of my existence, that doesn’t allow you to be _unfaithful_ ,” he shouted, eyes wide with a flurry of mixed emotions. “We didn’t deserve that.”

The words had stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Oh _shit_. 

A silence fell, as all eyes turned to Miles. He was sitting quietly, frozen on the spot, staring down at the table. After a moment, he pushed back, rising from his seat, chair squeaking against the floorboards.

“I need a minute,” Miles said, without looking either of them in the eye. He disappeared out the front door before Scott could stop him.

“ _Now_ look what you’ve done,” Kate accused, up on her feet.

“Me? _You’re_ the one who cheated on us while we were still together. Don’t put this on _me_.”

“You-- you don’t _know_ that.”

He slammed his fist on the table in a sudden act of frustration. “Then you should have made your dating profile harder to find.”

Scott headed for the door, feeling irritated and concerned all at once. He hated seeing Miles with such a hurt expression.

Kate attempted to reach for him. “Wait--”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Scott stated, dismissing her. “Wait here. We still need to talk.”

* * *

Miles was at the end of the lawn, sitting cross-legged on the grass beneath. Scott wanted to say something, or _do_ something-- but his mind had gone completely blank. He had no idea what Miles was thinking, or if he was upset, or sad, or _angry_ \--

Instead, he stood silently for another moment, before taking a seat next to Miles without another word. They both had a lot to say, and this time, he’d wait until the other spoke first.

“I had my doubts,” Miles confessed, leaning back on his hands. “You were right. About _everything_.”

Scott was speechless. He didn’t _want_ to be right. “I’m sorry,” he replied pathetically, hands fumbling on his lap.

Miles wasn’t sad; he wasn’t _crying_. He looked furious-- a side that Scott hadn’t seen in a very long time. He was visibly shaking, and Scott wanted nothing more than to hold him close, and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

“Don’t be.” He turned to the clone, his expression hard to read. “I’m guessing you knew about that for a while now?”

Scott grimaced, simply replying with a brief nod.

“I can see why you didn't want to tell me.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment. That was the last thing you needed right now.”

“No. No, it’s okay.” Miles let out a deep breath. “It’s what I needed to hear.”

Scott wasn’t sure if he’d heard him correctly. “It… it is?”

“Yeah. I’m just… sick of running. I’m sick of feeling this _shitty_. I just want this to be over with.” He looked determined now. “I want to move on.”

“Me too.” Scott placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

With a gentle smile, Miles rose back to his feet, patting himself down. He turned to look at Scott, still sitting beneath him, giving him a thoughtful smile. Miles reached out, offering a hand, which he promptly took-- but even once he got to his feet, their hands lingered a moment longer.

“Come on,” Scott said. “Let's go home.”

With Miles settled back into the car, Scott returned to the house, finding Kate standing on the porch with an unreadable expression. There were a dozen things he wanted to say to her, but he had to keep his cool, and he had to make sure he didn’t start another unnecessary fight.

“Look, I didn’t mean to snap like that, but Miles-- he’s still in a delicate place at the moment. Please understand that.”

Scott brushed past her, collecting their things from inside, including their copy of the divorce papers. He stopped by the door, glancing at Kate one last time.

“We’ll get this sorted. Miles will contact you when he’s ready.”

* * *

The two of them collapsed on the bed as soon as they returned to their apartment, arms and legs intertwined. They were both tired from the night’s events, and the ridiculous influx of emotions they’d both endured because of it.

“Reality is different to how I thought it would go in my head,” Miles mumbled into his chest, breath hitching.

“Take all the time you need.” Scott pulled the other man a little bit closer, chests flush against each other. “We’ll get there.”

Miles poked his head up, enough to catch Scott’s gaze. “It’s given me a lot to think about.” He bit his lip, pausing momentarily. “I just need some time-- and I’m sorry, I wasn’t as ready as I thought to talk to her yet.”

“It’s okay,” the clone hummed, eyes fluttering closed at the warmth and comfort enveloping him. 

He ran a hand through Miles’ hair, thinking about the night’s events, and what it meant for them going forward. They’d still need to see Kate again, and get the rest of this divorced settled-- he just hoped that next time, it might be a little bit more civil.

At some point during their comforting snuggle, both of them had dozed off unexpectedly.

Scott blinked the sleep from his eyes, carefully staring down at the man in his arms. Miles was still snoring softly, melting into his embrace. The clone took the opportunity to pull him a little closer, burying his nose into his hair.

The action caused Miles to stir, mirroring his actions and returning the embrace. He stretched out a little with a sigh, looking up at his clone.

“You alright?” Miles asked, the question turning into a yawn. “What time is it?”

Scott hummed, fumbling for his phone to check. “About... three in the morning.” He let out a deep breath, stretching out his legs.

“I can’t believe we managed the fall asleep that early,” Miles mumbled.

“It’s been one of those weeks I think.” He chuckled, pulling up the covers a little higher across them. “You want to go back to sleep?”

Scott watched the other man closely, as he appeared deep in thought; considering something.

“Do you want to… go for a walk?” Miles asked, with slight hesitation. “Around the lake, maybe? I could use the exercise, I think.”

Scott’s brow furrowed, as he turned his gaze to the darkness out the window. It wasn’t particularly cold, but it was still very dark outside.

“At this hour?”

Miles cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

Scott’s mouth snapped shut, considering their options. Miles had a point. As comfortable as he was, and as much as he didn’t want to get up-- he was more than happy to go if it was what Miles wanted.

“Yeah, alright,” he eventually agreed, kicking off the covers. “At least no one else will be out at this hour.”

* * *

As soon as they left the house, Miles was feeling _particularly_ brave.

It was a lovely evening-- surprisingly warm for this time of year; so even in the darkness, it was quite comfortable. The two of them took the usual trail from beside their apartment complex, which wound down to the nearby lake, surrounded by trees and nature.

They were barely a minute from home, walking at a lazy pace, and not speaking a word; when Miles reached for Scott’s hand, holding it softly in his, with no further comment. His clone appeared perplexed for a moment, staring at their intertwined fingers, and back to Miles. 

He tried his best not to blush like a teenager.

“Is this okay?” Miles asked hesitantly, enjoying the comfort it gave him. 

Scott’s hand squeezed his softly, reassuringly. “Of course.”

With that, they resumed their silent walk, watching their step as they went. The light of the moon was bright enough for them to find their way, and still see each other clearly enough.

“You know…” Miles started, voice soft and caring. “Ever since that day, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you’ve been going through lately, and how you’ve been acting, and feeling…”

“Miles, it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have--”

“Scott, let me finish.”

The clone snapped his mouth shut with a nod.

“I’ve been so focused on myself, and my depression, and sitting around at home feeling sorry for myself, and _drinking_ \--” Miles cringed at the thought. He’d always been so selfish. “I never even _thought_ about what you might be going through. I just saw someone who was happier, and more attractive, and likeable, and _goddamn perfect_ \-- and I let my anger and jealousy get to me.”

He tightened his grip on Scott’s hand, letting out a shaky breath. He paused his movements, turning to face his clone, eyes intense.

“I’m sorry. I should have been there for you. The fact that you tried to--” Miles stopped mid-sentence, unable to say it. “I... should have noticed.”

“You can’t blame yourself--”

“I can, and I _will_. You’re my responsibility, and I’m going to try to make it up to you.”

“You already _have_ ,” Scott chuckled.

Miles blinked, brow furrowing. “I… have?”

“Even though we’re still… new to this. New to everything that’s happened these last few days-- I’m _happy_. I never thought this was a reality I could live in; I never thought I could be this-- this happy before.”

“You’re happy?” Miles repeated, like a broken record.

“Of course.” Scott pulled their joined hands up to his chest. _“You_ make me happy, Miles. I don’t deserve this… but--”

“I’m happy too,” he replied, inadvertently cutting the other off. “We’ve got each other. That’s enough for me.”

* * *

The two of them sat down on the next park bench they came across; presenting them with a peaceful view of the lakeside under the moonlight. It was incredibly quiet-- the only sound caused by the rustling of trees and distant crickets chirping.

It was rather peaceful.

Miles slowly turned his head, getting a good look at the man beside him. Scott appeared surprisingly calm, and rather content-- going by the expression on his face. Their hands were still intertwined, sitting between them comfortably-- the gesture filling Miles with warmth and need.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that night they spent together, and how much he craved it. He felt his face flush at the thought-- remembering the deep desire in Scott’s eyes, and how his body felt pressed flush against his own. He… he liked it. In fact, the more time they spent together, the more he began to crave it.

Was this how Scott felt when they were together? The question was on the tip of his tongue, but it would probably be best to leave it for a more suitable time. They still had to deal with the mess that had been their evening with Kate-- and what it meant for them moving forward.

Miles still had a multitude of mixed emotions about the entire situation, and how it had unfolded between them. He needed to get everything out, otherwise it would only make their future interactions harder to deal with.

When he glanced beside him again, Scott was staring at him intently, squeezing his hand. It was only then Miles realised how deep in thought he’d been, causing his brow to furrow, and his expression to change.

“You’re still upset about what happened before-- aren’t you?” The clone asked. “ But… maybe we should talk about it?”

Miles let out a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He was right. They needed to talk, and to be on the same page. 

“I’m not mad at her because I want her back. I’m not mad at her because I still love her. I’m not mad because she lied, or because she couldn’t talk to me. I mean--” He let out a frustrated sound. “How out of touch am I right now? How could I not have seen that coming sooner? Even if you never came into my life, there’s no way we could have healed our marriage. It was... going nowhere fast.”

“Miles… you can’t be so hard on yourself.”

He shook his head. “I’m mad at myself for not realising; what it was doing to me, what I was doing to her-- it was such a fucking _mess_ , and it went on for far too long.”

“I know what you mean, and I know how you felt. I was the same-- especially when I _woke up_ , so to speak.” Scott looked away, as if remembering something unpleasant. “I thought I could suddenly fix everything; that all our problems could disappear with my newfound optimism; and that we could finally have that life we always wanted. Didn’t turn out that way, of course.”

“Jeez....” Miles let out a soft laugh. “What _happened_ to us?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Scott paused, moving a hand to Miles’ neck, caressing his cheek. “I’m… for the first time, since I woke up in that spa-- I finally feel like I have a purpose, you know? Like I’m needed. Like I’m not just an expensive mistake.”

“Of course you have a purpose,” Miles said, placing a hand over his. “And I thought _I_ was supposed to be the stupid one.”

“That’s not fair,” Scott complained with an exaggerated pout. “You still are-- _sometimes_.”

There were a million things Miles wanted to say, but his mind was suddenly blank; instead focussing on Scott’s lips. He pulled the other towards him, silencing him with a soft kiss. They remained close for another moment, pulling back to let their foreheads rest against one another.

“It’s not like you to be so bold in public,” Scott teased. “But I can’t complain.” 

Miles still wasn’t entirely sure what their relationship was just yet-- but whatever it was, he fucking _craved it_ now. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling his clone in for another chaste kiss.

“We should, uh--” Scott’s eyes darted around them, before landing back to Miles. “Maybe we should wait until we get home.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Miles laughed. “Who’s gonna see us?”

* * *

After endless evenings he thought were wasted, it was finally paying off.

Dan couldn’t believe what he’d seen. He was _beyond_ confused. Of all the possible scenarios, of all the possible dirt he could get on Miles and his brother-- this was beyond his own _comprehension_.

But that wasn’t all. 

Once he’d found their address, he’d learned that the two of them actually lived _together_. In some tiny, shoe-box apartment. After all this time, he was told they were estranged, that there was bad blood between them-- but they seemed rather happy with the way things were going now.

Tonight, he’d finally found something. The two of them had left, together, in the middle of the night. That was the first strange thing Dan noticed. He’d decided to grab his camera, and follow them down the trail they were headed. 

When he saw them holding hands, he felt like there was more to this situation than he’d first assumed. He was expecting a fight, or perhaps an argument of some kind-- instead, he’d found--

Something else.

Dan was now sitting in his car, out of breath from the run back. It was nearly four in the morning, and he knew he wasn’t getting any sleep-- but he still couldn’t bear to look at his camera, and what he’d just captured on it.

He needed to check. He needed to be sure this wasn’t all some strange _dream_.

The screen flickered to life, and he began to cautiously scroll through the photographs he’d collected. The one he was looking for was on display, and he paused to take a moment to study it.

There. Right there. He couldn’t believe it.

Miles and his twin _kissing_ \-- and not in a ‘ _wow long time no see, bro’_ kind of kiss (if that was even a thing). No-- there was a look in their eyes, no doubt about it. Whatever strange love they had was not something he could wrap his head around.

Was it a twins thing? He’d seen plenty of pornos like that, but this was next-level _weird_.

Regardless, there was no way he was passing up such a great opportunity. He _could_ use this against Miles to ruin his reputation. He could even imagine the shock and horror of his coworkers and friends once this particularly interesting development stumbled into their hands.

What would _Kate_ think about their relationship?


	5. I love you

Darkness surrounded him.

A cold chill caused him to shiver, body rigid from the lack of heat. His eyes opened, seeing nothing but the black sky and forest of trees above him. They appeared far from reach, as if he was falling into the earth.

He tried to get up; body heavy and unresponsive. Then he began to panic. Nothing was working. A breath caught in his throat as he tried to speak, unable to create any sound over his own breathing.

Something fell onto him, stinging his eyes. He could barely see, as a weight began to build above him. The earth was collapsing around him, crushing his body, clouding his vision, stealing his air.

He needed to escape. He had to get out of here. He didn’t want to die.

But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t _scream._

All he could do was suffocate.

* * *

Miles awoke with a gasp, hands clawing at the bed sheets, body covered in sweat. He sat upright, breathing laboured and heavy, eyes wide and darting around the room, as he desperately attempted to catch his breath. He brought a sleeved hand to his cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears that had fallen at some point during the night. He hadn’t had a dream like that in a _long_ time, and for a minute, he’d nearly forgotten where he was. 

It felt so _real._

He took a deep breath, lying back down once more. Rolling over, he took a moment to stare at the man beside him. Scott was still deep in slumber, lying on his side, breathing softly. Miles watched in the dim light as his chest rose and fell with each breath, and how his hair had become a mess during the night, sticking up at odd angles.

Miles wondered what he was dreaming about, if anything at all. He hoped it was something nice… and not anything like the depressing nightmares he’d been having for the last year or so. 

Nothing more but memories he wanted to forget.

Miles still couldn’t believe the incredible extent of how much their relationship had changed in recent weeks. It still tore him up inside when he would think about just how much he meant to Scott, and how much sorrow the man had felt at the thought of being rejected by him. 

Miles could relate to that.

But what _now?_ Were they in a ‘relationship’, for lack of a better word? Were the two of them exclusive? Or was this just a way to help each other move on, before settling down with someone else?

It wasn’t as if there was someone he could go to for advice regarding _falling in love with your own clone_.

Miles stilled at the thought, pondering on it for another moment. His mind went back to that morning after their-- well, after their rather _drunken activities_ the night prior-- and hearing a love confession, of all things, straight from Scott himself. He could feel his heartbeat quicken at the memory, the look of shame and sadness at the words, as if Scott was completely torn by his own feelings.

_I love you, Miles._

Those words echoed in his ears, causing his heart to ache. It was a sentence that had changed their entire relationship. Miles felt a tug at his chest-- a longing, a _need_ . He couldn’t quite describe it. Whenever he was around Scott, it would draw him in. It made him feel safe and wanted, even _loved_ \-- yet he felt like he was going insane sometimes, especially when he found himself alone.

Miles could admit that he was still _tender_ from their rather intimate activities. His face flushed a deep shade at the thought, heat going to his cheeks. Why did he become like this when he thought about it? What was he-- a teenager? It wasn’t like him to wake up both sad _and_ horny, in the middle of the night no less.

Ever since then, things had been different between them. But not in the way Miles had been expecting. Just when he would expect Scott to make a move, he hesitated, or threw out an excuse to pull away. It was maddening-- and Miles was afraid Scott had grown sick of him already.

Miles let out a quiet, shaking breath, biting down on his lip, as his hand awkwardly palmed at the hardness between his legs. Why _now?_ He was exhausted, and this was the last thing he felt like dealing with in the middle of the night. But the sooner he got off, the sooner he could get back to sleep. 

But it wasn't enough. It was _never_ enough anymore.

Fuck. From what he could remember through clouded, drunken memories-- Scott had been doing things to him that he could only dream of. He needed _more_.

Miles had no idea why he’d become so turned on; nothing more than a needy mess of a man. He’d all but lost his sex drive these past few years, and now it was as if it was completely overhauled and dialed up to eleven. 

His eyes flickered to the man beside him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault-- after all those things he’d done to him that night, Miles had become reliant on his touch, body reacting to any form of affection he could get.

Scott was getting him too used to this. He missed the feeling of having someone so close-- it was driving him to desperate measures. He was practically _conditioned_ now. Not only that, but Scott was one hell of a heavy sleeper, with none of Miles’ words or pokes waking him up.

He wanted to _touch_.

Miles leaned in closer, practically spooning the other man’s side. He ran a gentle, albeit hesitant hand, over his chest - thankful in that moment for Scott’s inability to wear shirts at night. Miles was still far too insecure about his own looks to lie so freely, which he had previously been jealous of regarding his clone - but here, right now, in the darkness - it was something he needed, much to his surprise. 

His wandering hand paused again near Scott’s hip, lingering gently over the hem of his briefs. A shiver ran beneath his fingertips, nearly causing him to flinch. The clone let out a soft sigh, but didn’t appear to be stirring, leaving Miles more of an opportunity for what he had in mind.

Miles contemplated for a moment, rising onto his knees and shifting slightly closer, moving a leg over so that he was practically straddling Scott. A sudden burst of confidence made him feel particularly brave in that moment, having never become accustomed to making the first move. Both of his hands were resting above the clone’s hips, idling twitching at the fabric covering his waist.

In a way, Miles wanted to falter, having seen just how peaceful and rested the expression was on his other half. But he was certain Scott wouldn’t complain once he learned of what Miles had in store for him. Shifting down the bed, his hands followed him, caressing the other man’s thighs as he went. 

By the time he finally pulled back the briefs, he couldn’t stop himself pressing his face into the warmth between Scott’s legs, wet tongue trailing up his inner thigh. A soft groan emanated from above, and within seconds, the clone’s hard cock pressed firmly against his face. 

Just _perfect_ ; exactly what Miles wanted right now. 

Holding in a deep breath, Miles took it into his mouth, struggling at first, finding himself in completely unfamiliar territory. He barely lasted a minute, if that-- spending more time attempting to decipher how to properly suck dick rather than enjoy himself.

Miles pulled off with a gasp, after unintentionally hitting his gag reflex and suppressing an onslaught of coughs as best he could. It was far more difficult to do than he’d always imagined. How did they always make it look so easy in porn? This was _ridiculous--_

Scott mumbled from above, slowly coming to, hands grasping towards the other. He looked down at Miles through tired, surprised eyes, brow furrowed. “Miles?” He asked, before his question turned into a yawn. “What are you--”

Miles climbed up his chest on shaking arms, staring with lustful desire. He reached down between his legs, holding their cocks together in one hand, causing Scott to shiver. “Please,” Miles breathed, biting his lip. It was more of a request than a statement. “I…”

“ _Fuck--”_ Scott cursed, biting through a moan. His hands shot out to the other’s hips, using the newfound leverage to thrust into his hand. “Miles-- _yes!”_

Miles nearly lost his balance when Scott latched on to the back of his neck, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him into a rough kiss. It was sloppy, their tiredness getting in the way of anything romantic-- but that was the point. They both had nothing but lust on their minds, moaning around each other’s tongues in a fight for dominance.

Scott’s hand on his hip felt tight enough to bruise, but Miles didn’t care. They both panted against each other for breath, attempting to read the other’s mind. “I want to--”

“ _Yes_ ,” Miles pleaded, knowing full well what they both wanted. “Yes, please-- _fuck--_ I _can’t_ \--”

Scott dragged him in for another kiss, ravishing his mouth with newfound need. Miles felt a hand creep down his back to his briefs, roughly pushing them down out of the way. The clone wasn’t wasting any time preparing him, already two lubed fingers deep, and drinking up the multitude of embarrassing sounds escaping his lips. 

Miles yelped when a finger brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves, a shiver running down his spine. He fell forward, biting his lip in an attempt to quiet himself. He still wasn’t used to this, the thought of which scared him sometimes-- but he craved the affection. 

Both were desperate for friction; the clone unable to hold back as he flipped them over, swapping positions. Knees settled between Miles’ thighs, fingers returning to ensure he was properly prepared, as the man beneath Scott could do nothing more than gasp between moans, and claw desperately at his back.

Neither man could wait any longer. A pillow found its way under Miles’ hips, helping Scott push back his thighs for a better angle. He watched in awe as the clone lined himself up, tensing in anticipation and unbearable arousal.

Miles threw his head back at the sensation, biting his hand to stifle a sob. The onslaught of pain and pleasure mixed together was hard to control; the last thing he wanted was to finish before they began. When he finally bottomed out, there was no time to adjust; a hand on Miles’ cock pumping in time with each thrust.

Scott knew he wouldn’t last long. He’d been unbearably horny for days now, holding himself back in some attempt to control his desires to a more reasonable demand. The sight of Miles like this, beneath him, clinging to him and begging for more-- it was too much for him to handle.

They both called out to each other when they tipped over the edge, moans stifling as their lips found one another. 

Miles felt all his strength dissipate as he relished in the aftermath, Scott collapsing on him shortly afterwards. The weight on his chest made it a little difficult to breath, but Miles didn’t want to move. Scott was muttering something by his ear; comments of love and possibly affection, words slurred by their mutual desire for sleep. The clone shifted his weight to the side, so that he was only resting half of his weight on Miles, arm dangling lazily over his hip.

“Sorry for coming on so strong,” Miles mumbled, not wanting to admit just how needy he was.

Scott let out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. If anything, I’d say the same about me… the other night. I wasn’t even sure if I hurt you or not.”

“Nothing I can’t recover from.”

“I _do_ think about you all the time, though,” the clone suddenly blurted out. “But I-- well, I dropped a lot on you all at once, I wanted to make sure you had time to think, and some space to yourself.”

“I appreciate that.” Miles furrowed his brow, considering the events of the past few weeks. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“...In a way, yeah.” Scott averted his eyes, pursing his lips. “Just trying to keep myself under control. You know how I can get when I--”

“It’s okay,” Miles interrupted, pulling in a little closer. “I don’t mind. I think I… really need the attention sometimes. But I still… have no idea how I feel, and it’s-- there’s so much going on in my head, you know?”

“It’s okay,” Scott mumbled into his chest. “Don’t need to label it anything. We’ll figure it out.”

His clone was right. There was nothing worth worrying about. They’d figure out their relationship as it developed. Miles just had to make sure he didn’t let the other man down. That was his greatest fear. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt. 

They’d dealt with enough pain already.

“Scott?” He asked quietly, but the soft snore he received in response was as much of an answer he’d get. He smiled, rearranging his arms slightly to find a more comfortable position.

Whatever doubts Miles held, he’d have time to figure it out later.

* * *

It wasn’t often that Scott had to work late, but when he did-- he absolutely _hated_ it. 

Being referred to as _Miles_ would usually throw him completely off balance these days. He’d become so accustomed to his new name, that now he barely responded to his old one anymore. But if he was to keep up with their current charade of switching places, he’d need to do a better job to remain consistent _and_ convincing. 

The pile of uneven paperwork on his desk toppled over, scattering across the floor. Scott groaned, taking the opportunity to stand up and stretch, before collecting the papers up again. He’d somehow managed to mix his finished _and_ unfinished work together, therefore creating even _more_ work for him to complete.

Fuck it. He’d had enough of this. All Scott wanted right now was a tasty meal and a warm body to wrap up in his arms. He licked his lips at the thought-- mostly with the idea of getting his hands under Miles’ shirt, yet again, and holding him close.

Scott shook his head, willing away such thoughts before they escalated and became too lewd again. The only reason he was working so late in the first place was due to Miles waking him up in the middle of the night, and then--

He paused, freezing on the memory.

The look on Miles’ face last night was getting to him, constantly flashing before his eyes. He chewed in his lip, resisting as best he could as he felt his dick stir at the thought. He never assumed that Miles would be _that_ forward-- at least, not yet. 

But he wanted to see him again. He wanted to see that _expression_ again--

Scott slammed his head against the desk, letting out a pathetic sound. _Fuck_ \-- he couldn’t be this horny at work. Nothing frustrated him more than being kept from home-- and more specifically, from _Miles._

His mind would spend far too much time thinking about what else he could be doing, or asking him a million questions about what Miles might be up to. He hated leaving him at home by himself so often, but they didn’t have a choice.

Scott’s eyes flickered to the clock, noting it was now past eight o’clock. The pain in his stomach was begging him for food, and at this point, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Whatever work he still needed to finish could wait until tomorrow-- he could deal with Pool if she had a problem with that.

He’d barely made up his mind before the door to his office flew open with such force he had to do a double-take to check it was still intact. That wasn’t the main problem, of course-- it was the person who he now was staring at face-to-face.

The first issue being that he was the last employee currently working in the office. The second issue was the person in question. Dan, apparently, had not only managed to trespass into his office, but he’d decided to be a smug bastard about it as well-- despite being fired weeks ago. Apparently no one took the time to revoke his access, and in all honesty, he was the last person Scott felt like dealing with.

Dan stared at him in silent amusement, or perhaps satisfaction-- showing off his teeth, as he closed the door behind him. It only made the clone’s uneasiness rise further, wanting nothing to do with whatever the other man had in mind.

Scott was certain that he had the most punchable face he’d ever seen, and at this point, didn’t even want to bother acknowledging his presence. Dan was clearly up to no good-- why else would he be here, at this hour, in Scott’s place of work? It wasn’t exactly the circumstances for someone with friendly intentions.

He didn’t even have the chance to ask what the fuck he was doing there before the intruder spoke first.

“So _Miles--_ ” Dan started, leaning on the edge of his desk. “Or should I say… _Scott_?”

The clone felt his heart stop momentarily at the accusatory snide in his voice, even though it was nothing more than his name. There was no way someone like Dan could know about their predicament, or their change of places. He hadn’t even seen him in weeks-- so how the hell could this possibly be happening?

Scott needed to calm down. It would only get worse if he panicked. Playing dumb would have to do for now.

“The hell does that mean?” He replied, lip twitching involuntarily. “You have a problem with me, Dan?” 

Even though Scott tried his best not to react aggressively, could hardly suppress the influx of internal questions at the drop of his new name. What exactly did he know about their relationship, if anything? And the more concerning question-- _how_ could he possibly know?

“Just as I thought.” Dan clicked his tongue, pausing a moment, as if he had something inappropriate on his mind. “I think I’ve got something you’re interested in.”

Scott finally looked at Dan directly, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, you’re not my type,” he deadpanned, before attempting to dismiss him.

“Oh, I _know_ ,” Dan continued, leaning in a little closer. His grin was beginning to give him the creeps. “I know _exactly_ what _your type_ is.”

“I doubt that,” Scott replied dryly. He couldn’t contain the chuckle that escaped from him-- even though at times he felt conflicted with having a rather _unusual_ relationship, keeping it secret was the best course of action-- for their own safety.

Dan let out a sudden, loud laugh, nearly startling the clone, before he was staring at Scott with an intense glare. “Well, it would certainly be a pity if certain information-- or photographs, in this case-- were to be... _distributed_.”

Scott felt his breath hitch at the threat. If he truly _did_ have some dirt, in some form or another, that could destroy the life that he and Miles had made for themselves-- he might just have to call for drastic measures.

There was also the possibility that this could be nothing more than an empty bluff-- but Scott was beginning to feel nervous. He’d admit that both he and Miles had let their guard down after his rather abrupt kidnapping a few months earlier, after all-- they’d assumed that they were free from such… _concerns_. 

That’s what didn’t make any sense. Scott hadn’t told _anyone_ yet that they had officially split with Kate. No one even knew he was living at a new address, or that it was _both_ of them living together now.

There was no way Dan could know where he lived, _or_ the way he felt about Miles-- let alone the extent of the relationship they shared.

Scott glared at the man standing before him. Dan smirked, pulling out a rather inconspicuous envelope and dropping it on the desk. The clone stared at it with mild hesitation, hands fiddling in his lap. He had to know what it was. 

This could be a bluff after all. But there was too much at stake if it wasn’t.

“Go on. Open it,” Dan cooed, resting his weight against the edge of the desk. “We’re all alone here.”

Scott reached forward carefully, breaking eye contact for only a moment as he brought the envelope towards him. He reached inside, fingers curling around a small stack of photographs, eyes focussing on the contents as they were revealed.

He was overwhelmed with mixed emotions as he stared at the image on the top of the pile. It was Miles. The focus was off a little, but it was him, no doubt about it. The photo was taken outside, in low light. Miles had his hand on something out of frame, but his expression was what was so surprising to Scott; he was grinning from ear to ear.

Scott shook his head-- this wasn’t a time to think about how much he missed Miles-- there was more to be seen.

The next was a clearer photo of both himself and Miles; the two of them smiling, arms around each other. The expression on Miles’ face was what you’d expect to see on someone staring at their lover, the thought of which caused a shiver to run down his spine.

Then came the last photograph-- the two of them in a warm, close embrace-- lips pressed against each other, and--

Scott slammed the pictures face down on his desk, breathing heavy and ragged, teeth clenched as he stared at Dan with pure hatred in his eyes. He’d never felt anything quite like the emotions flowing through him right now-- and if he was entirely honest with himself, he was sure that he was now capable of killing someone.

This wasn’t his own livelihood that he was concerned about; no, certainly not. This was about Miles. This was about what such evidence of their relationship could do to him in the wrong hands. Threats to himself, Scott could deal with-- but Miles, on the other hand-- what this could do to him, how this could affect him in his current mental state--

A line had been crossed.

“What the fuck is your problem, Dan?” Scott spat, standing up so fast that his chair toppled over.

The other man sneered, turning up his nose. “ _You’re_ my problem.”

Scott grit his teeth in frustration. If this was the way he was going to act about this, then two could play at that game. “And, remind me-- what was it that I did to you?”

“You got me _fired_ ,” he clarified. 

The clone scoffed at such an accusation. “Is that all?”

“No.” Dan’s fists clenched by his sides. He lowered his head, irritation showing through. “You’re a cocky bastard, and I hate your face.”

“ _That’s_ your excuse?” Scott asked, completely baffled by his logic. “You really think I planned that? Getting you fired? It’s not _my_ fault you’ve been slacking. Take _some_ responsibility for yourself, at least.” 

With that said, Scott was completely done with their conversation.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to speak to me like that,” Dan grinned, waving around the file in his hand. “Not when I have _this--_ and the address of several interested parties, who would be quite _appalled_ by the contents of these photographs.”

Scott’s eye twitched, anger burning deep inside of him. Threats against _himself_ specifically was something he could deal with, no problem. 

But _no_ . Dan was after _Miles._ To tarnish his reputation. To ruin his _life--_

 _No one_ hurt Miles. Scott wanted to punch that smug look right off his fucking face. But that would have to wait. It was time to do the unthinkable.

“Dan-- you have _no idea_ what you’re talking about,” Scott warned, his patience growing thin.

This asshole… What was his endgame? What could he possibly get out of blackmailing him? Surely this had to be more than petty revenge.

“You wanna take this outside and _tell_ me what I don’t know?” Dan offered.

Scott was tired enough to consider the offer for a moment. Yeah. _Yeah_ , he did, actually.

“Let’s go,” the clone ordered, picking up his coat and briefcase before brushing past the other man, and heading out the door.

Dan appeared stunned for a moment, before bouncing up with excitement and following his trail. “Finally!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting _months_ to kick your ass--”

Scott couldn’t suppress rolling his eyes, shaking his head and continuing towards his car. He didn’t look back, he didn’t falter - but he could hear the confidence dwindling as Dan slowed down behind him.

“Come on,” the clone insisted, gesturing to the car. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Hey I…” Dan stopped a few metres away, already appearing confused and uncomfortable. “I thought we were gonna fight!”

Scott paused by the driver’s side door, hand hesitating over the handle. He took a moment to collect himself, turning his head to look Dan directly in the eyes.

“I wanna show you something first,” he insisted, gesturing to the car, and knowing full well that Dan was about to learn that he fucked with the wrong clone. “Get in. Now.”

* * *

The next ten minutes of driving was incredibly uncomfortable; a heavy silence lingering in the air. Scott tried his best to suppress a grin, knowing full well what he had planned for the man beside him.

Dan shifted awkwardly, pressing up against the passenger door. “W-where are we going?” He queried, voice breaking.

“You’ll see.” Scott peered out to the left, into the darkness. He squinted, trying to make out the upcoming turn-off. “This looks about right.”

Slowing down, he pulled off the road, parking the car in a dark section of the forest. There was nothing but trees and darkness around them, creating an uneasy atmosphere - with nothing else living in sight.

A perfect spot to prove a point.

“What? Where are we?” Dan asked, sounding panicked. “What the _fuck_ , man?”

Scott ignored him, getting out of the car, and moving to the opposite side. He stood by the door as Dan emerged, questions clearly on his mind, but he was far too pissed right now to talk. Instead, Scott made a silent gesture for the other man to follow, as they headed deeper into the woods.

They eventually reached a small clearing; trees less dense, and the earth uneven. This must be the spot-- not that Scott had ever been here, but from his conversations with Miles-- he was sure this was right.

Taking a seat on a nearby tree stump, he stared at Dan, who continued to look around them anxiously, before noting the rather grave-shaped piece of earth in front of him.

“Dig,” Scott instructed.

“Why?” His eyes never left the spot on the ground. “What’s in there?”

“You’ll see.” The clone insisted, leaning back. “ _Dig._ ”

Dan scoffed, attempting to hide his fear. “Yeah, I’ll dig, but, like…” He looked around, searching for something. “We don’t have a shovel or anything.”

“Use your hands,” Scott ordered, patience waning. “ _He_ did.” 

He knew that Dan would have no idea what he was talking about, but he couldn’t help but realise just how traumatic it must have been for Miles-- to wake up, practically naked, in his own grave-- and digging a way out to freedom.

_Suffocating._

Then, of course, to make the journey home, only to find that he’d been replaced by an improved version of himself. Scott couldn’t help but cringe internally at the thought. The emotions he must have felt… it made him feel nauseous. 

“All right,” Dan hesitated, taking another look around. “Okay…”

There were about ten different graves surrounding them, in this singular spot of the forest. Scott guessed that there were probably plenty more, but… he was certain that this was the right place. He hoped it was, otherwise the next hour or two might be weirder than he had anticipated.

Dan knelt down by the first grave, at one end, and began awkwardly pulling back to dirt with his hands. Scott stood not too far from him now, waiting, and hoping that this might be the right one.

When the face of a dead body stared back at Dan, the look on his face was priceless.

“Jesus. Who… who’s that? Holy shit--” He looked up at Scott with an accusatory finger. “You’re a freaking _psycho_ \--”

Scott simply rolled his eyes at the insult. “Try the next one,” he suggested, hovering behind the other man _._

Dan shuffled over to the next grave reluctantly, gradually pulling back the dirt, until he saw another unexpected face. “Dude. Is this... _Tom_ _Brady_?” He asked incredulously.

The clone dismissed him. “Just keep going.”

The third unmarked grave proved the point that Scott had been waiting to make this entire time.

As Dan uncovered the face beneath, he stared at it a moment, eyes wide. He appeared to want to say something, instead throwing his head to the side with a gagged sound, and vomiting.

Dan turned back eventually with a shaky breath. _“_ What’s going on, man? Is... that me?” He sobbed, looking back at his own corpse. “Why is that... _me_?”

“Your spa recommendation,” Scott smirked. “They don’t just scrub your DNA… they _clone_ it.”

“Clone?” Dan sat back, a look of complete disbelief clouding his face. “But... why would they make a clone of me… and then _bury it?_ ”

He groaned internally, forgetting just how stupid Dan could be when given the chance. Pinching his brow in frustration, Scott gave him a look. _“Guess again._ ”

It took only a brief moment for the realisation to flash over Dan’s eyes, as he finally understood what had happened to him at the spa-- and it was about damn time, too. It was getting late, and the clone had places to be. 

Scott knelt down beside Dan, slapping him on the shoulder with an expression of satisfaction; finally making the point he’d been trying to reach from the beginning.

“Welcome to the club.”

* * *

Miles found himself at home, as per usual-- but concerned... and _alone_. Two things he couldn’t stand, and together, made it even worse.

He’d been lying on the couch for hours now, dinner having gone cold long ago, and beer reserves nearly depleted. He was beginning to worry.

Miles stared up at his phone, thumb hovering over his clone’s phone number. He hesitated another moment, before letting out a deep breath, and clicking the dial button.

It rang out. Again. And again. It was late, and Scott wasn’t picking up his cell.

Anxiety coursed through him, making him queasy, heart rate picking up slightly. Doubts were floating into his mind, giving him all sorts of conclusive reasons why he was here alone.

Miles groaned, curling up on his side and dropping the phone to the floor. Why was he so insecure? What even were his feelings towards Scott in the first place? He was still so confused-- and the more he tried to think about it, the more he doubted himself.

He needed him. He thrived off the attention the other man would give him. But did that mean he felt love and desire? Or was Miles only using him as an outlet for his loneliness and depression?

No, he couldn’t be. As strange as it was to be in love with a better version of himself, that wasn’t how he felt. It was still so hard to put into words.

But Miles knew, in Scott’s own words, how the clone felt about him. He didn’t want to hurt him, or let him down. Sometimes he even feared that he might not reciprocate the feelings offered to him. But there had to be more to it than that.

Miles was depressed, that much was obvious. He was in no state for a functioning relationship, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fucking try for it. It had been only a few weeks since their dynamic had shifted so drastically, and looking back now-- Miles was glad at how it had turned out. 

This was a much better alternative than trying to kill each other.

It didn’t stop his insecurities, though-- as much as he hated them. Scott wasn’t trying to be better at everything-- hell, he’d made it clear that he was just as depressed and lonely as Miles was, deep down. But together, they were able to give each other something-- a way to fill the void, a way to give and share an ounce of happiness between them.

Miles wasn’t sure he could live without him now. Scott was practically a part of him, separate and alive, and very much in love with him. He still wasn’t entirely sure how or why the clone would have such feelings for him, but in a way-- it was the best thing that had ever happened to Miles.

It was so different to the feelings he held for Kate. He wasn’t even sure what to call that anymore-- with her, there was so much doubt and fear of his own failings. He got to the point where he knew she was out of his league, and that there were far better options for her. In fact, Miles’ own perfect clone would have been a better replacement for himself.

No wonder the last thing he expected was to fall for the man he once considered the worst thing to ever exist. Now he couldn’t live in a world without him.

Miles hummed at the thought, brow furrowing. That just about settled it, then-- he still couldn’t find the specific word or expression that could easily summarise how he felt-- but there was definitely _something_. He could work with that. Maybe talk it out with Scott, and see where that went--

Even now, the more he thought about the other man, the less interested he was in having dinner with him, and the more he wanted to hold him impossibly close, and cling to him for dear life.

Shit, was he really that needy? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted to do was push someone else from his life from expecting and requesting too much from them. But he was useless like this, by himself-- he could barely cook up a decent meal, and that was his only responsibility right now.

What Scott saw in him, Miles would never truly understand.

* * *

Scott was honestly surprised by Dan’s reaction to the whole _being a clone_ thing. Instead of being saddened over the fact that he’d literally been killed - on several occasions, no less - he instead was more concerned about the value for money that the ordeal had caused him.

“Dude, this so massively _sucks_ ,” Dan pouted, crossing his arms. “I paid for the silver package! I’m totally gonna file a complaint.”

Scott sighed, wanting the night to be over already. “Well, if it’s any consolation, at least it’s just _you_.”

“Oh, man.” Dan paused, gears turning in his head like clockwork. He eventually glanced at Scott, realising what his words meant. “You mean-- you and your brother…”

“Yeah...” He replied with a grimace. 

“So, uh… which one is the…”

Scott shot him a look. “Why do you think I changed my name?”

“Ah. Right.” Dan nodded with a hand on his chin. He appeared to be mulling over this sudden influx of new information. “Okay, so-- if I get this straight, the old Miles was supposed to have been killed, like me… but the spa fucked up, and now there’s two of you?”

“More or less, yeah.” Scott pinched his brow, letting out a deep breath. He really didn’t feel like having this conversation right now. 

There was still one question lingering in the air. He was waiting for it to drop, and cringing at the thought. He knew what he had with Miles was… _unique,_ for lack of a better word. But regardless of that, it was none of Dan’s business.

Not like he’d be able to understand it, even if Scott tried to explain.

Dan stared down at the file of photos in his hands again, and Scott could tell the pieces were falling into place in his mind-- although his relationship with Miles would no doubt bring on even _more_ unanswered questions. 

“But dude-- you’re _hot,_ ” Dan stated, completely out of nowhere, catching Scott off guard. “Are you seriously telling me that after getting a second chance at life, you’d be happy to date a sad, depressed copy of yourself-- rather than literally _anyone_ else?”

“Yes,” Scott deadpanned, as if that could _possibly_ sum up the entirety of his relationship with Miles. His feelings ran much deeper than that, but as far as he was concerned, that was no one else’s business. “That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying.”

Dan hummed thoughtfully. “Suit yourself, man. I’m not here to judge.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” 

“I mean, I still don’t, you know-- _get it_.”

“Neither do I. Look, I _know_ it’s weird-- but it’s hard to explain. With everything that’s happened, with Kate leaving us--” Scott paused. He could feel himself getting too emotional about this. “We’ve both been a mess. But we’re helping each other out. Miles is… doing much better now.”

Dan raised an eyebrow, mouth slightly open.

“And before you ask--” Scott cut him off before he could speak, turning to look him directly in the eye. “Yes, we’re fucking.”

“But _why_?”

“Why not?”

“But…” Dan narrowed his eyes. “How can you be attracted to _yourself?_ ”

Scott opened his mouth to respond, finding no suitable words to express himself. He did raise a good question; how _was_ it possible for him to have such feelings for Miles, and for Miles to - as far as he knew - reciprocate them in some form or another?

He felt that they were connected by an invisible thread, something that drew them close to one another. Perhaps it was their shared genetics, or similar wants and desires. Love was a strong word… but it was genuinely how he could describe the sensations he felt in his chest.

“It’s not really… look, I don’t get it either.” He had to cut a long story short, otherwise they’d be here all night. “It just kind of-- _happened_.”

Scott was honestly expecting to be grilled further, or for Dan to continue to shoot him invasive or inappropriate questions. But even Dan, a person who he thought he knew rather well, still managed to surprise him.

“Hey man, each to their own, I guess.” He shrugged, leaning back into his seat.

“So... you don’t hate me after all that?” Scott pressed.

Dan shook his head. “Nah man, I only have a problem with _Miles_.”

Scott glared at him, tensing immediately.

“Chill! I won’t bother him, I promise.” Dan placed his arms up in defeat. “I didn’t know you both got dumped like that, and cloned, and… well, you have my condolences.”

The clone made a face, but decided to leave it at that. He’d already said far more than he’d initially intended to, and he wasn’t entirely convinced how Dan would take all this new information. There was even a moment where Scott was afraid he’d have to resort to more… violent measures to get his point across.

The evening had turned out better than Scott had expected. For now, he was finally able to enjoy some silence as they continued back to his place of work-- even though it was a rather _awkward_ silence at that.

“Hey, um… Ever since the treatment, do you have to, like-- jerk off seven times a day?” Dan blurted out, clearly not thinking straight.

Scott furrowed his brow, turning to him after a moment. “Actually, yeah.”

“Yeah...” Dan chuckled softly to himself. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

The clone blinked, turning back to the road, shaking his head. Were they seriously having this type of conversation right now, after everything Scott just put him through? Of all the possible outcomes, the last he’d expected was to bond over both of them _technically_ not being who they once were. It was a strange, newfound friendship-- and Scott still wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea.

Pulling into the parking lot out the front of work, Scott placed the car in park, idling as he awaited for Dan to depart. They’d been sitting in silence for the last few minutes, and Scott was at a loss for what else to say-- he’d hoped this would be the end, and that they’d go their separate ways and never speak of it again--

Dan, however, wasn’t on the same page.

He slowly climbed out the car, wobbling slightly on his legs. Scott glanced over with a brief moment of concern. _“_ Are... you alright?”

Dan nodded, looking around like he was momentarily lost, then ducking his head through the car window. “Hey, uh… You and me are like _clone buds_ now, huh?”

Scotts stared at him, unamused. “Yeah. Sure.” He replied, and tried his best not to die inside.

“Here, take this, then--” Dan threw the envelope back to him, pointing at it. “It’s the only copy I have. I burned the negatives.”

“Thanks…?” The clone raised an eyebrow, unsure if there was more to be said.

“It’s cool man.” He smiled. “Hey-- let’s hang out sometime. We’ll go to the bar and you can be my wing-man. You can help a clone-bro out, yeah?”

Scott groaned internally. What was this guy’s problem, seriously? Regardless, he was better off being on _good_ terms with Dan right now than anything else. The last thing he wanted was another threat to either himself _or_ Miles.

“Alright,” the clone agreed, waving off the other man as he left, still unable to wrap his head around all that took place between them tonight.

But perhaps this was the beginning of a very _peculiar_ friendship.

* * *

“Where have you been?” Miles asked with a panicked tone, looking up from his laptop. He got to his feet so fast he nearly lost his footing, managing to place the device safely on the coffee table, and meeting Scott by the door. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

The clone smiled, relieved that the day was finally over. He still couldn’t believe he’d done that in the first place, taking Dan out to that gravesite-- at least he seemed to take it fairly well.

“Took our old friend _Dan_ out for a ride,” Scott replied, tapping the side of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take this long.”

“Did…” Miles trailed off into a whisper, looking around cautiously. “What, did you _kill_ him?”

“I _wish_ ,” the clone laughed, throwing a hand around the other’s waist. “Nah, just made him dig up his own corpse.”

Miles blinked, eyes stunned and unblinking. He sat down on the couch for a moment, staring directly in front of him with his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “That seems kind of… harsh, even for him.”

“I thought so, too.” He took a seat beside him. “But he brought it on himself.”

Now Miles was beginning to look concerned. Scott wondered if it would have been best to have kept all the events of today a secret. But he hated the idea of keeping things from Miles-- especially threats like Dan had been spouting mere hours before.

“...How so?” Miles asked cautiously, hands fumbling awkwardly in his lap.

Scott shrugged. “Turns out we had a stalker.”

“S-stalker!?” Miles immediately felt fear, mostly from his previous experience of stalking, and how it escalated to _kidnapping_ of all things.

“But it’s okay now. It’s all sorted.” Scott pulled out the envelope of images, dropping it onto Miles’ lap. “Apparently, Dan thinks it’s your fault for him losing his job. So naturally, he wanted to blackmail you.”

“Shit…” Miles fumbled at the contents within, flipping through the photographs. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Neither,” Scott chuckled, leaning against the other man. “All good now. No hard feelings.”

Miles let out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing again. He stared down at the contents of his hands, unable to tear his eyes away from the photographs. Something about it was mesmerising to him, but the clone was at a complete loss.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Scott asked with concern, placing a hand on his thigh, and sitting up rigidly. “This is the only copy, so no one else will--”

“It’s not that…” Miles mumbled, bringing the first image closer to his face, and readjusting his glasses. “I just… can’t believe that’s me, you know.”

The clone chuckled at the unexpected irony of his words, but still felt no closer to understanding what he was trying to say. “What do you mean?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. They may share the same DNA, but it was still obvious which one of them was which in the photographs.

“We just look so… happy,” Miles smiled, and Scott thought he might melt at the sight. “Do you mind if I, uh-- keep this?”

That surprised him even more, but he couldn’t deny his request. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, kicking off his shoes so he could finally unwind for the evening. “I’m sure there’s a spare frame around here somewhere--”

Even if there was, that would have to wait. Miles fell to the side, head resting upon the clone’s shoulder, as he let out a deep breath. Scott stilled a moment, reaching around to rest a hand on the small of Miles’ back. It was then he realised just how late in the evening it was-- almost midnight-- and he was far from hungry anymore, craving nothing but affection from the man in his arms.

“You know, I think I’ll take Pool up on that offer to take some time off,” Scott stated, fingers drumming along Miles’ hip in contemplation.

Miles hummed softly, eyes remaining closed. “Why’s that?” He asked with a tired slur.

“We should get away for awhile. Go someplace quiet. Relax for a bit.” _And have you all to myself,_ Scott thought to himself, unable to suppress a grin.

“I… that would be really nice, actually.” Miles pondered a moment longer. “Any ideas where?”

“Yeah,” Scott smirked, pulling him in a little closer. “A few.”

* * *

Miles sat in the second bedroom of the apartment, at the small desk they had in the corner. This was usually the place he’d sit to write, when he needed some time to himself, and somewhere quiet to think. But today, he had a different task in mind.

There was a load of paperwork in front of him, and nothing like the type of work he’d do at his job either. It was about himself... and his soon-to-be ex-wife.

The entirety of their married life, and agreement for divorce, summed up on a few sheets of paper. It was rather… depressing, when he thought about it like that.

Still, it needed to be done. Scott had insisted that Miles be the one to look over everything first, as technically, he was the one married to Kate. But he’d be close by incase he needed help with anything.

It was going to be tough, but it needed to be done. Miles had to end their marriage, cut the ties of their bond, and move on with his life-- otherwise he never would. 

It was times like this that he was thankful to have someone as loving and supportive as Scott here beside him. He never realised just how much he’d been relying on his clone lately. Honestly, if Miles knew the place he’d be in now on the day he was kicked out of the house, he wouldn’t believe it.

Miles let out a deep sigh as he reached the final page, ensuring to remain attentive as he read through all the small details. Everything that had been proposed here was more than reasonable to him--

Kate would keep the house. They’d split the assets, including their savings. Considering the amount of money Miles had taken for the spa treatment, and how much they’d received back after their rather sudden cloning, it seemed in poor taste to take more money from his ex. But right now, if this was what Kate wanted-- Miles didn’t feel the need to contest. 

Grasping onto a pen with a sweaty palm, Miles carefully signed and dated the final page, breathing out steadily as he did so. He then collected all the pages, piling them together neatly and staring down at it with a furrowed brow.

That was that. Could it really be as simple as this? He’d never before imagined anything other than a life with Kate… but now, he had endless opportunities on offer for his future. It was almost overwhelming in a way.

Miles startled when a knock came from the door, peering over his shoulder as it slowly creeped open. Scott was standing there offering a comforting smile and cup of freshly brewed coffee. He placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder for a moment, leaning down to leave by mug by the paperwork. 

Before Scott could pull away, Miles wrapped his arms around his middle as he remained seated, burying his head into the other man’s shirt. Arms came around to rest on his back, holding him close.

“You done?” The clone asked quietly, eyeing the neat pile of papers on the desk. “All signed?”

Miles simply nodded into his chest, closing his eyes and relaxing into the warmth. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, knowing full well this entire divorce proceeding had been taking far too long for his liking. But now it was finished.

The two of them were one step closer to their new life.

“Alright then,” Scott patted him on the back. “We’d better get ready.”

Miles leaned back, blinking a few times in confusion. “What for?”

“Did you forget already?” The clone smirked, pulling Miles up from the chair. “We’re going out for dinner, remember?”

His eyes finally widened in realisation, having completely lost track of time and day. He’d been so cooped up lately that it had completely slipped his mind.

They’d better get a move on before they turned up late _again_.

* * *

Scott tried his best to put on a strong face, but he was nervous as hell. They hadn’t exactly had the best run-in with Kate during their last get-together, but now that a few weeks had passed, he hoped the dust had settled.

It was planned to be a simple, public affair this time. They’d agreed to meet at the local pub, to chat over a drink or two, and sort out their divorce in a civilised manner. Whether or not it would end up as disastrous as their previous encounter was yet to be seen. 

Looking back now, there were times when Scott was afraid she’d changed her mind, after she kicked them both out that fateful day. Miles had been completely heartbroken, and it had taken months for him to finally begin the process of healing and moving on. The thought of such progress being destroyed filled the clone with unsaid anger; but he was glad now, after these last few months, that it was not the case.

Much like themselves, Kate had moved on. To what extent, exactly, Scott wasn’t sure. But he had a feeling more would be revealed after their impending chat. 

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Scott returned to the bedroom, finding Miles staring at his reflection in the mirror with distaste. He huffed, patting himself down, head turning to the left and right, eyebrow raising as he appeared displeased with what he saw. He finally looked up at the clone, smiling briefly.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Miles commented, fixing up his shirt for the fifth time that evening. “I can’t help but feel that this won’t end well. Like last time.” He pulled his sleeves over his hands, fiddling with the hem, in that way he always did when he was anxious and trying to hide it. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Scott smiled at him. “Hey, it’s okay--” He took a step closer, holding onto one of Miles’ hands for a moment. “I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you right now. But just remember-- we’re in this _together_.”

He nearly had the wind knocked out of him as Miles pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him impossibly close. The clone brought a hand around, resting it on the small of his back affectionately. 

“Look… I know this isn’t the most traditional relationship, and people are going to think all sorts of weird things about us. We can still act differently in public. Might be for the best. For now, at least.”

“Do you, uh--” Miles pulled back, making an awkward face. “Do you think she’ll bring her new partner along with her?”

“I’m not too sure, to be honest. She didn’t mention it on the phone. But we need to be prepared that she might. As far as I know, we’re simply having a friendly chat over some drinks.” Scott glanced away, taking a deep breath. “I think it would be good for all of us to remain friends, at the very least. We all deserve to be happy at the end of the day.”

Miles suppressed a laugh. “When did you get so wise?”

“Months of practice,” he replied with a cocky grin.

Scott pulled the other man into a brief kiss, knowing that he’d not have the opportunity to do so again for at least another few hours. He suppressed the sudden urge to tear off the other man’s clothes then and there.

“Come on--” Miles placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away just enough to see his face. “We’d better go now otherwise we’ll never get there.”

* * *

Miles shifted nervously in his seat, hands drumming along the side of his near-empty drink. He had no idea why he felt so uncomfortable, or why he longed to escape this place to return to the safety of his apartment. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as mentally prepared as he’d first thought. Or maybe he relied on Scott’s company more that he’d realised-- the man in question having left the table moments ago for a fresh batch of drinks.

However it was far more likely that he still felt uncomfortable lying to his ex-wife.

“I didn’t mean to move on so fast,” Kate admitted, appearing rather guilty, and breaking the silence. “It just sort of _happened_ , before I even realised it. But I want us to work things out as well, and stay on friendly terms. You still mean a lot to me, Miles-- and I want you to be happy as well.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I... I’ve found someone else as well.” Miles faltered for just a moment, before looking her directly in the eyes. He wasn’t expecting to admit that quite yet, but it gave him an unexpected sense of confidence in himself. “I’m just as surprised as you are, trust me-- but I’m also happy for the first time in a long time.”

“I’m so glad to hear that, Miles.” Her smile was gentle, and kind. “I really am.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate the sentiment. But with keeping a friendship between us, well-- I mean, that includes _both_ of us. I hope you understand.”

“I think I can live with that.” Kate side-eyed him, as if waiting for him to continue. “And…?”

Miles blinked. “And _what?_ ” 

“You just said you’d found someone else,” Kate reiterated, bringing the glass to her lips. “When will I meet this new love interest of yours?”

Miles flushed, not even thinking that she’d want to meet them, even though she already technically _had_. “I don’t-- I mean, we’re not really--”

She tapped her neck. “I can see the hickies, Miles. You’re not so innocent.”

He opened his mouth to protest, fumbling his words, mentally cursing to himself at just how ridiculous he must look to her right now.

“What’d I miss?” Scott interrupted, placing a new round of drinks on the table. “Something interesting, I’m sure.” 

“Nothing.” Miles looked like he’d seen a ghost, averting the clone’s gaze completely. “Just-- talking.”

Scott made a face, eyes flickering between the two of them with curiosity. He slid into the seat beside Miles, offering him a small glance of appreciation and support. He knew this situation was still rather fresh and new to them both, but he couldn’t help but worry about how it might be affecting his mental health.

His concerns quickly dissipated as they continued their conversations. The paperwork didn’t take long, all three of them having decided on reasonable terms a few weeks prior. It helped clear the air-- and instead they moved on to recent happenings, including Kate’s new love interest.

She was surprisingly coy when discussing their relationship, but what Miles noticed immediately was the way she spoke. There was no doubt in his mind that the man she spoke of thought highly of her, and treated her with the love and compassion that she both sought and deserved.

Seeing Kate happy made Miles happy, and he was certain Scott would say the same. But she wasn’t quite done telling them _everything_ just yet.

“I, uh… actually had something to tell you.” She blushed, both hands awkwardly fumbling with each other. “I know this is rather sudden, but-- I’m pregnant.”

Both Miles and Scott’s eyes widened like saucers, as they awkwardly exchanged looks. Neither man quite knew how to respond to such a sudden development, but they both had one very important question on their mind.

“It’s not yours, you can calm down,” Kate rolled her eyes, chuckling at their reaction. Miles and Scott shared an awkward laugh. “So… yeah, that’s happening. I’ve got two step-kids as well, which I was more worried about, but… they seem to have really taken a shine to me. No pressure there, of course.”

Miles couldn’t remember the last time he saw Kate as genuinely happy as she was right now. He was so glad to see her like this, practically glowing, and finally living the life that she wanted and deserved. 

Even if it was a life without Miles.

But that life was over. He’d do no use lingering on what was, and what could have been-- he had to remain in the present. His life had certainly improved, when he considered all that he’d experienced the last few months-- with Scott by his side, helping him through it all.

Time had managed to slip past them, Scott only now noting it was past ten in the evening. He’d never been much of a night-owl, but he wanted to make sure they didn’t overstay their welcome either. He rose from his seat, making a gesture to Miles that it was time to go, and they both spent a moment to farewell Kate. It wasn’t going to be the last time they’d see each other, but Scott would prefer if their meetings remained infrequent, until they’d all had more time to settle into their new lives.

Miles had disappeared, running ahead to pay the bill. Before Scott could protest, a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks, spinning around to stare into the eyes of his ex-wife one last time that evening.

“I wanted to say… thank you.” Kate smiled, voice genuine and caring. “I can’t remember the last time I saw Miles-- well, you-- in such good spirits.”

Scott’s mind completely shut down at her words. It was a truly unexpected development from his point of view, rendering him momentarily speechless. 

“He… also told me he’s seeing someone else. Please keep an eye on him for me, okay?” 

Wait-- really? Miles said that? To _Kate?_ He told her that he was seeing someone? 

Clearly not _who_ though. No surprise there.

Scott wasn’t sure what the sudden feeling was that overcame him in that moment, but he wanted to find Miles, throw him over his shoulder, and take him straight to bed.

“No problem,” Scott replied, placing a hand momentarily over hers. “Who better to look out for him than me?”

* * *

The two of them had collapsed on the couch as soon as they’d made it through the door, barely managing to kick their shoes off in the process. It was late, the house completely engulfed in darkness as they neglected to turn on any lights, relying on the gentle reflection of the moon emerging through the window to see each other.

Scott found himself laying on his side, head nuzzling into the crook of Miles’ neck, breathing in his scent and warmth. Nothing ever felt quite as magnificent as this; the two of them wrapped in each other's arms, thriving off each other’s comfort. 

He thought back to the moment he’d returned to their table, Miles appearing more uncomfortable than he’d ever seen him in recent weeks. “I _did_ miss something before, didn’t I?” Scott asked, nose pressing into the other man’s cheek.

Miles pulled back to look at the clone, staring at him as if completely lost.

“When I got up to get refills. What did she say to you?” Scott pressed in a slightly teasing manner. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so embarrassed before.”

A blush crept up Miles’ neck, darkening his cheeks, as he made his best attempt to not glare. “Well if it wasn’t for _you_ I wouldn’t be covered in suggestive little love bites.”

“Ah. So she’s onto you.” Scott nuzzled into his neck again, gently kissing one of the marks in question. “I think they’re _cute_.”

Miles bit his lip, letting out a shaking breath, and relishing the attention. “Of course you would…”

“You surprised me before,” Scott hummed, resting his head back down on the couch to remain focussed on the other man’s eyes. “I thought you’d get upset.”

Miles made a face. “About what?”

“Kate having a kid,” he stated bluntly.

“I thought so, too,” Miles whispered, eyebrows furrowing momentarily. “But no. I’m really happy for her.”

Scott eyed him suspiciously. “...But?”

“It’s just so strange-- but I’m glad.” Miles chuckled, a genuine smile forming across his lips. “She’s managed to get the life she wanted… the life I couldn’t give her--”

Scott wanted to cut off his words before Miles began to speak negatively about himself again, but that was not the case tonight.

“--and I still don’t think I could do it,” Miles admitted, looking away sheepishly. “Don’t get me wrong I’d love to have a kid on day, sure... But it just doesn’t seem like the right time. I won’t make a good dad. At least not right now. I need to get my shit together first, if I ever can.”

“Hey--” Scott cupped his cheek affectionately, feeling Miles relax under his touch. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get there when we’re ready.”

* * *

Miles couldn’t sleep. It was a common occurrence these days, especially with everything on his mind as of late, including everything he’d heard from Kate earlier in the day. The two of them had managed to reach the bed before Scott promptly fell asleep on his chest, arms locked around Miles’ waist, mumbling something unintelligible as he dreamed.

It wasn’t necessarily _bad_ thoughts that would keep him awake, especially not right now. He’d been imagining scenarios in his head; what could have been, between him and Kate, and perhaps even Scott as well-- but it all seemed so _fake_ . Now when he imagined her, standing in some unknown house with a husband and kids he didn’t recognise-- it felt _right_. As if that was the way their lives were meant to be.

Scott sighed, waking up slowly, and taking a moment to remember where he was. “Sorry, must have dozed off for a while there…”

“I don’t mind.” Miles met his eyes, offering a smile. “Were you dreaming?” 

A rather odd question to ask, sure-- but he’d been mumbling in his sleep again. It always made him curious. “I don’t think so,” the clone yawned. “Why’s that?”

“Because it was like being stuck in a vice grip,” he deadpanned in response, gesturing to the tight grip he’d been stuck in. “Like you were holding onto something you didn’t want to let go of.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Scott chuckled, leaning up on an elbow. “Can’t sleep?”

Miles shook his head. “Lot on my mind, as usual.”

Now that they were both awake, it was as good a time as any to talk.

Miles needed to make sure the two of them were on the same page. He was beginning to feel uneasy with their lack of communication lately, and the last thing he wanted was for their interpretation of their relationship to be on completely different levels.

“What… is this? This thing we have together?” He asked softly. “I still don’t fully understand it.”

Scott shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s whatever we want it to be.”

“But are we just… you know, on the rebound? Or is this… more than that?” Miles asked hesitantly. “Can it be more than that?” 

“It’s more than that to me.” The clone raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sharing you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Miles laughed, allowing himself to relax a little. “I’m glad. I don’t play well with others, you know that.”

“More for me.” Scott grasped onto his hip affectionately, leaning forward. “I’d marry you if I could.”

He scoffed, waving him off. “Always the romantic…”

“I’m not hearing any complaints.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Scott purred into his neck. “But I think you’re kinda into it.”

They chuckled softly against each other’s lips, hands finding their way around each other. Scott eventually found himself as the little spoon-- something that he didn’t get to enjoy nearly as often as he’d like, pressing back up against Miles, feeling his hot breath against his neck. It was such a comforting feeling that he had to fight to stay awake, his body begging him for much needed rest, eyes flying open when he heard Miles’ voice whisper by his ear.

“This life, right now… I know it’s different, and I know it’s not perfect. I certainly need to work on myself more, but…” Miles pressed his nose into the crook of Scotts neck. “I can say that I’m genuinely happy, for the first time in a long time, with how my life is going...”

“Really?” The clone asked, glancing over his shoulder. “So you don’t mind staring at my face all the time?”

“I never thought I’d say this… but it’s probably the best part of my day.”

 _“Probably?”_ Scott pressed, eyeing him suspiciously. “If you’re searching for a fight I’ll give you one.”

Miles leaned over and kissed him. “You’re on.”

* * *

Before Scott had reached the front porch of their sister’s house, Miles had caught his arm in an iron grip, stopping him in his tracks.

“Okay, let me get this straight-- you and Maia are on good terms?” He asked, completely bewildered.

“Yup. Apparently, I visit far more often than you.” He smirked, not trying to be cocky in the slightest. “She seems to like that.”

Miles grumbled, hunching his shoulders forward. 

“Could you repeat that?” Scott requested snidely.

“I’ve been _busy_ ,” Miles clarified, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Aw, don’t be jealous.” Scott curled an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close with an affectionate grin. “She’s looking forward to catching up with you.”

Miles rolled his eyes, allowing himself to be pulled along to the front door, stopping briefly as he was hit with a sudden realisation. “Wait a minute, does she know about--”

“My twin brothers!” Maia squealed in excitement, bringing them both in for a rough hug. “It’s been too long!”

“Hey Maia,” they responded in unison, giving each other an odd look over her shoulder.

They were barely out of her grasp before they were dragged inside, nearly tripping in the process. “Miles-- make yourself at home,” Maia offered, before she caught Scott by the back of his collar. “I need to talk to _this one_ for a moment.”

Miles made a face of confusion but didn’t bother to protest.

Pulling Scott away with haste, Maia led him to the kitchen, quickly looking over their shoulders to make sure the two of them were out of ear-shot. “So… how’d it go?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows. “Did you, _y’know_ \--”

Scott smiled, placing a hand on his chin. “Can’t you guess?”

Maia let out a cheer loud enough to alert the whole neighbourhood, holding up a hand as the two of them high-fived. “Way to go, clone-bro.”

Scott couldn’t stop laughing from the absurdity of it all, especially when Miles caught up with them. “I feel like I’m missing out on something here,” he butted in, narrowing his eyes as they flickered between the two of them. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Miles-- didn’t mean to leave you out.” Maia threw an arm behind his neck, pulling him towards the lounge room. “So-- how was the honeymoon? I want to know _all_ the juicy details.”

Miles nearly choked on air, Scott’s expression going completely blank. Sometimes they forgot how inappropriately _forward_ she could be, even when it came to their love life.

“ _Maia!_ ” Miles chided, before staring at his clone with confused bewilderment. “Seriously?” 

“Alright then, keep your secrets,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No need to be so formal around me, you know that.”

Before Miles was out of reach, Maia slapped him on the back, in the sisterly manner that was the norm between the two of them. But in this case, it was so unexpected that Miles flinched forward in surprise, the awkwardness of the sudden movement causing his wound to act up again, flaring with pain. He curled forward on instinct, biting back a sound of discomfort as he clutched at his middle.

Maia jumped back as if she’d been burned, eyeing Miles carefully, hands hovering. “Shit, Miles-- I’m sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to--”

“Miles!” Scott pushed past their sister without thinking, snaking an arm around his waist, and helping him to the couch. “How bad is it?”

Miles only shook his head, teeth clenching uncomfortably. “I’m fine,” he whispered. “Just need a minute.”

The clone felt positively useless, old memories of their time together at the hospital filling him with long forgotten suppressed guilt. He hadn’t the faintest idea what to do-- torn between wanting to help make the pain subside, and being unable to stop it.

“I’ve got some pain meds in the kitchen. Let me just--” Maia paused and stared at Scott, contemplating briefly before pulling him along with her. “Come with me.”

Scott didn’t have a chance to say no, making eye contact with Miles briefly, as he gave him a reassuring look. He was afraid that he’d have to explain himself, and Miles’ condition-- knowing Maia, it was impossible to keep secrets from her. She had this sisterly way of figuring out everything with nothing more than a stern look.

With that in mind, Scott did exactly that-- he told their sister _everything_.

That was _probably_ a bad idea, judging by the sudden, hard slap he’d received across his face, as Maia stared at him in horror. He knew he deserved that.

“Maia!” Miles yelled in shock, staring between the two of them; rushing over to the clone’s side. 

Scott stood there wide-eyed, cheek beginning to redden. He brought a hand to his face, eyes on his sister, completely speechless. He knew she was right. It didn’t stop the pain, though.

“You could have died, you _idiot_.” Neither man had a chance to escape, as she brought them both in for a bone-crushing hug. They exchanged a look, opting to roll with it, circling their arms around her, and holding each other close. Maia pulled away, sniffling a moment, before glaring at Scott. “If you do something that stupid again, then I’ll be the one to come over and kick your ass.”

Their sister stepped back a moment, turning away from the two of them as they continued to stand next to each other awkwardly. Neither man knew what to say, hoping the uncomfortable silence would pass.

Miles reached out hesitantly, hand resting on her shoulder as he turned to her. “Maia, I can explain--”

Maia shook her head. “It’s okay, Miles-- I’m just glad you’re okay, and that the two of you have each other now,” she confessed, grinning from ear to ear. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, you know.”

Miles shifted awkwardly on his feet, feeling uneasy by how accepting she was. “You don’t find it weird at all?” He pressed, glancing quickly to his clone. “It’s not the most traditional type of relationship.”

Maia scoffed. “Who cares about _normal_ or _traditional_? What matters is your happiness, Miles.” She cupped his cheek with a fond smile. “And now I’ve got two brothers that are literally two halves of the same whole. It’s weird, but I like it.” She put her hands on her hips, gesturing between the two of them. “I give it my official seal of sisterly approval.”

The two men glanced at each other. “Still-- you’re taking this _surprisingly_ well,” Miles added.

“Think about it from my perspective, Miles. Not only do I now have two brothers, but they’re also both in a happy relationship, and, for the first time in years… it’s good to see you in such a good place. I mean it.”

Miles blushed, against his best attempts not too, suddenly finding it hard to make eye contact with his sibling. At least now that nothing unsaid was lingering in the air, the three enjoyed their scheduled catch-up, which included more than one apology from Scott. But Maia didn’t want to focus on the past, and what could have happened when Miles had been hurt-- they were both here now, and had each other-- and that’s what mattered. 

“We’d better head off before it gets too late,” Scott interrupted, standing beside Miles and resting his palm on the small of his back. “Thanks for having us over, Maia.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she smirked, placing a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “Now you better take care of each other, yeah? Don’t make me come over and kick your ass, because like I said before-- _I will_.”

Scott stiffened at the threat, but knew it was just her way of expressing her _sisterly love_. “I’ll count on you, Maia.”

* * *

Dan knew as soon as the door opened that he was facing Miles. The _original_ Miles. Not the ‘Miles’ that he’d been talking to since the day he recommended the spa treatment. This was the one who had been the bane of his existence for months now. Although, after his recent conversations with his clone… it was hard for him to hold ill feelings any longer.

Technically it _was_ his fault for Miles to end up in such a predicament in the first place.

“Hey, Miles,” Dan smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “What’s up?”

“ _Dan?_ ” Miles sputtered, nearly choking on the coffee in his hand. “The hell are you doing here?” 

He suppressed an eye roll. Figured as much. Looked like Miles had no idea of the recent new-found friendship Dan had made with his identical counterpart.

As if he was summoned, Scott walked into the room, after hearing the commotion no doubt, only to lock eyes with Dan and come to a complete halt. The two exchanged a knowing glance, before the clone turned on his heels, raising a finger. He looked as if he’d realised what he’d forgotten.

“I’ll be right back,” Scott stated with a furrowed brow, leaving as quickly as he came. 

Miles was no longer paying attention to him, which allowed Dan to get a better look at the other man. His eyes wandered to his neck, spotting something of curiosity hiding beneath his shirt collar. It was, without a doubt, a small line of love bites.

So he _was_ right about them this whole time. Huh. How about that?

“So it’s true, then?” Dan asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “You two really are a thing.”

“Yeah.” Miles made his best attempt at looking unaffected by his statement. “What of it?”

“Nothing, man,” he shrugged. “Just couldn’t believe it ‘til I saw it.”

Miles opened his mouth to return a witty retort, no doubt-- until Scott reappeared just in time, clothes changed to his running gear, and invigorated with newfound enthusiasm. 

“Alright! Let’s go.” The clone stopped by the door, hand lingering on Miles’ back for a second as he gave him an affectionate smile. “Be back in a bit.”

Miles didn’t have a chance to reply as he watched the door close in front of him, mind still attempting to catch up to the events of the last five minutes. His clone _did_ mention something about a confrontation with Dan recently, but the last thing he expected was for the two of them to be on friendly terms now.

He shrugged, taking a moment to stretch out his weary limbs. At least he had some peace and quiet now, so he might as well make use of it and get some work done while he could.

* * *

The idea of a holiday sounded relaxing, yet stressful at the same time. Honestly, if Scott hadn’t dragged him out of the house, Miles would have been just as happy to stay inside, cooped up like he usually was. But now that they were here - outside, in the sunshine, fresh ocean breeze filling the air - he had no idea why they hadn’t done this _sooner_.

Scott had managed to take the entire week off of work, and Miles was relieved that his counterpart could finally take a break. Their job wasn’t the easiest, and could certainly affect their personal life during particularly stressful times, but Scott hadn’t complained at any point since he’d taken over for Miles.

Apparently, this wasn’t just _any_ vacation, though-- the clone kept insisting this was a _romantic getaway_ , and Miles had simply nodded along, unable to stop himself from smiling at how excited Scott was for the trip he’d spent all month planning.

The beach was their first stop, and it was anything _but_ relaxing. Sure, it was fairly secluded-- only a small handful of people scattered across the sand and shallows-- but it was so _open_. He had enough issues right now with body image, and the idea of taking off his shirt made him cringe. He knew he should have laid off the beers sooner, but still-- he looked rather ordinary next to Scott.

That wasn’t the only problem Miles was facing at present, much to his dismay.

The main source of Miles’ constant nervousness was what he currently held in his hand. Scott had barely ever let go of his since they’d arrived. At first he’d assumed it was to make sure Miles wasn’t left behind each time Scott’s eyes caught onto something new, dragging him along on his ventures. But then the fingers would linger, grasp tightening on their conjoined hands as if something horrible were to happen if they were ever separated.

Miles sighed to himself. All this worry was getting him nowhere, and was killing his mood. When he finally tore his eyes away from their hands, he found Scott staring at him with such concern that he nearly flinched.

“What is it?” The clone asked, smiling to hide his worry. “You okay?”

“We’re in public, and, well--” Miles looked around cautiously, attempting to identify if anyone was staring at them. “I don’t--”

“They’ll just think we’re twins. Most twins are pretty close anyway.” He waggled his eyebrows inappropriately at the latter statement. 

Miles grimaced. “Not _that_ close.”

“You’d be surprised,” Scott winked, making his point known. “Come on we’re missing the waves.”

“Alright.” He rolled his eyes, caving in to the clone’s demands. “I regret asking.”

Scott couldn’t wait any longer-- ripping his shirt off and throwing it towards Miles, before turning to the ocean and running towards it at top speed. Miles didn’t have a chance to stop him, quickly finding a spot on the beach to leave their belongings before he could join in. He decided to keep his shirt on, unlike his other half-- knowing that he’d probably burn within minutes thanks to his inability to leave the house, leaving his complexion rather pasty.

But then something caught his eye, when he stared back at the surf. For a moment, Miles was convinced that time had come to a crawl, as he watched Scott turn back towards him in the shallow water, waving back with the biggest, dumbest grin on his face. In that moment, he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

That’s when Miles realised for certain-- he was in love. 

He’d never felt anything so absurdly intense before. He thought for a moment that his heart would become stuck in his throat at the realisation. 

Miles wasn’t just _in_ love-- he was in love with _Scott._

When did _that_ happen, he wondered. But on the other hand… was it even a bad thing?

Miles finally let out a sudden laugh of relief, grinning like the love-struck idiot he was; catching Scott’s gaze briefly before joining him in the water.

* * *

Miles absolutely _hated_ the gritty feeling of sand and salt water against his skin. They’d been in the surf for hours, until the sun set and the water had begun to run cold. Upon arriving back at their motel room, he made an immediate beeline for the bathroom, unable to wait any longer to shower. 

He relaxed immediately under the warm spray of water, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to rid it of knots. It came to no surprise to Miles when he found himself no longer alone; another cold, naked body pressed up against him.

Scott insisted he could help him clean up, but Miles knew he had different plans up his sleeve. They’d both been hanging out in public all day, practically half-naked-- so it was only natural that they’d been undressing each other with their eyes up until this moment.

What had begun in the shower gradually moved to the bed, neither man able to keep their hands off the other until their desires were met, eventually collapsing in a mess of sweat and chaotic kisses. So much for cleaning each other up-- they’d have to wash off in the morning.

Miles felt himself beginning to doze off, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the man in his arms. He ran his hand through Scott’s messy, wet hair, receiving a hum of appreciation in return. As tired as he felt most days, he continued to struggle with regular sleep-- either being kept up late by nightmares or endless thoughts and questions on his mind.

“You ever think about just how weird this is?” Miles asked suddenly, shifting his head slightly to get a better view of the other.

“Which part?” Scott mumbled, clearly more tired than he was.

Miles chuckled, much to his surprise. “You _know_ what I mean.”

“I guess.” The clone sighed, crossing his arms above Miles’ chest as a makeshift pillow. “I don’t really care though. Others can think whatever they want.”

Miles considered his words a moment; agreeing wholeheartedly. “I’m still surprised how chill Maia was with, you know… _this_ ,” he added, noting how the clone tensed when he brought up their sister.

“I, uh--” Scott sat up momentarily to get a better view of the other man. “I _may_ have told her about our situation... long before it happened.”

Miles pulled a face in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“I was desperate, at the time... I needed help.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “She was the only one I could turn to when it started to get… bad.”

Miles placed a hand on his cheek. “You’re an idiot,” he stated bluntly.

“Says _you_.”

Scott captured his lips in another kiss, rising up on his arms and shifting his weight over his companion, straddling his thighs. Miles sighed, body slack against the bed. “We really need to do something about your unbearable sex drive.”

“I can think of something we can do,” Scott replied with a sly smile.

He grimaced, finally giving in. “If I can’t walk tomorrow, you’re going to carry me everywhere.”

Scott leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “I think I can live with that.”

* * *

Like most vacations, it was over far too quickly for Scott’s liking. They’d only have another day together once they arrive home before Monday, and his inevitable return to work. He contemplated how they could fill their remaining time together, and he had a plan-- a little extra surprise that he’d been keeping from Miles-- something that he couldn’t wait to share once they’d returned home.

Miles, on the other hand, had different plans.

He’d been completely unreasonable during their long drive home, irritating Scott to no end, but not in frustration-- it was more on the edge of _need_. It wasn’t like Miles to be such an insufferable tease, constantly complaining about this or that, and leaning over to the driver’s side, hand sliding across Scott’s thigh as he whispered in his ear. 

That’s it-- he’d cross a line, and gone over the edge.

Scott hit the brakes, hearing Miles yelp in surprise, knocking him off balance. He pulled the car into the next side road, surrounded by nothing but pitch black countryside, with not another sound in sight.

Miles stared at him in confusion as he exited the car, walking around to the other side, opening the passenger side door and dragging Miles out with him. He felt Scott against his chest, back pressed up against the car.

“You’re such a bastard,” the clone spat playfully, pulling back Miles by his hair, eyeing his neck.

“But you love me,” Miles pointed out with a sly smile.

Scott let out a deep, possessive growl, hands gripping the front of Miles’ shirt as he moved him out the way, throwing open the rear car door. 

“Wait, wait--” The clone pushed him through the door, as Miles fell back against the seat. “Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it--”

Scott crawled on top of him, having discarded his pants, and pinning him down. “Too late for that, Miles.” He pushed up Miles’ shirt, tongue finding every inch of his chest, licking and sucking to his heart’s desire.

Miles shivered under his touch, biting the back of his hand to suppress his cries. “It’s too soon, I’m still--”

“No need to worry so much,” Scott retorted, as he rubbed their cocks together, biting his lip. “I’m not going to fuck you.” With his free hand, he removed the cap off the bottle previously kept in their luggage, pouring out a decent amount of lube over them both. “Was going to wait until we go home, but…”

“What are you…” Miles tailed off, watching breathlessly as the clone reached between his own legs, groaning as his fingers slipped inside. He barely had time to register what he was seeing before his lips were captured once more in a hungry kiss.

“Come on, Miles-- you’re the one who wanted this,” Scott cooed, enjoying the sight of the man coming undone beneath his fingertips. His hand rested against Miles’ cock, shuffling forward to find the most optimal angle. “You better put out,” he added with a smirk, before lowering himself down.

Miles’ failed to stifle the sound of pleasure that escaped his lips, feeling the intense warmth around his cock as it disappeared into the man above him. Scott let out a held breath, having not realised just how difficult this would be to adjust, even with his earlier preparation. 

If that was the case, then he’d take his time, inching closer until he finally bottomed out with a sigh. Miles was completely incapable of moving, held down firmly by Scott’s weight. He placed his hands on Miles’ chest as he gazed into his eyes with a cheeky grin, forehead covered in sweat, face flushed.

“Please, I want to--” Miles moaned in pitiful frustration and pleasure, hands digging into the clone’s thighs. “I need you to move, you can’t just-- _please--_ ”

Scott shook his head, staying put. “Not until you apologise for riling me up,” he tsked, rocking his hips gently.

“I’m _sorry,_ ” he practically begged, unable to move from his current position, aching with need for more. “ _Please_ , just let me-- I need to--”

“I know, Miles.” Scott slowly raised his hips, watching Miles squirm for friction beneath him. A moan insighted from both of them as the clone sunk back down in quick succession. He leaned down, hand caressing Miles’ cheek as he kissed him softly. “I know.”

The clone smirked, knowing full well that he was going to take his sweet time teaching his other half a lesson that was far overdue.

* * *

Within a month of returning home, Miles had made the rather surprising decision of going back to work. Scott had to do a double-take when he brought it up, not even considering it an option previously. But Miles admitted he was feeling too cooped up in their apartment, and in desperate need to socialise outside of their walls.

Even with Miles being as confident as he was, Scott was filled with anxiety and uneasiness. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been left home alone, to his own devices, for such an extended period of time. If he was perfectly honest, he had no idea what to do with himself. Work usually kept him so busy during the day, that all his free time was spent with Miles. Now that it was the other way around-- what did Miles even do during the times he was absent? Scott was perplexed by the thought.

Maybe he just needed some hobbies. Well-- hobbies other than _Miles_. If that was the case, he was completely at a loss.

Actually, now that Scott thought about it-- he did _technically_ have his own identity. He could probably find a job of his own now, perhaps in a field that he’d always considered but never bothered to try out. That left him far too many options to consider-- he had no idea where he’d even _start_.

* * *

“Miles!” Scott practically glomped him before he made it all the way through the front door. He pulled back, placing his hands on Miles’ shoulders. “So how was it? How was your first day back?”

“It went surprisingly well…” Miles was trying his best to hide the blush tinting his cheeks. “I don’t think anyone even noticed the difference, much to my surprise.”

Scott took a few steps back, placing a hand on his chin, and giving Miles a thorough look up and down. He was dressed quite differently to what he usually wore, appearing closer to his old self-- button up shirt, black trousers, laced shoes, and most importantly-- neatly preened hair.

“You know… I could really get used to this,” he stated, gesturing towards Miles’ current attire. “It’s a _really_ good look for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Miles raised an eyebrow, pulling at his tie, and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. “You really think so?”

Scott felt his mouth go dry; whatever he was previously thinking of saying was long gone, eyes focussed on the small inch of skin now presented to him. He licked his lips, unable to find a suitable response.

Miles was already on him; pushing him against the nearest inch of the countertop until Scott was practically sitting on it. Miles settled between his legs, pressing up against him as he brought one of Scott’s thighs around his hip. The warmth was comforting, but the kiss was intense - different, in some way, to their previous encounters. Scott thought nothing more of it, melting into the touch, not caring if he needed to breathe or not.

What felt like hours was barely minutes, when Miles finally pulled away far enough for Scott to see the cheeky, yet lustful look in his eyes. The clone knew exactly what he had in mind, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to protest-- after all, he’d spent the entire day cooking a celebratory meal for them to share, only for it to go cold.

Scott let out a surprising moan of approval when Miles ground his hips against him again, snapping his attention back to his other half. He returned the grin, throwing an arm around Miles’ shoulder to reclaim his lips.

Maybe just this once... they’d celebrate a _little_ longer.

* * *

Miles had never felt so uncomfortably intense as in this very moment.

He’d finally finished the latest version of his script. It was practically a part of him now, with how much love, care and passion he’d thrown into it lately. He’d used it as an outlet, of sorts-- a way to deal with his pain and emotions as of late.

But now it was time for a proofread; for _feedback_ \-- something he both loved and dreaded at the same time. The story had become so personal to Miles recently-- even going to such an extent as to use some of his own personal life experiences as inspiration for particular aspects of the story.

But now, looking back at his work-- the title finally made sense, and suited the story more than he’d initially imagined.

**The Search**

Trying to find certainty in an uncertain world.

_by Miles Elliott_

Scott’s expression was intense, eyes focussed completely on the laptop screen. Miles could do nothing more than sit in silence at the other end of the couch, as he watched the clone’s eyes move from left to right, soaking up the story that Miles had been working on for so many months now.

“What do you think?” Miles finally blurted out, desperate to get an answer and end the silence. “Is it okay?

It was another moment before Scott met his gaze. “That--” He pointed to the script, eyebrows shooting upwards. “That was far better than I was expecting.”

Miles faltered, unsure exactly what he meant. “I can’t tell if that's a compliment or an _insult_.”

“No, I'm serious-- I really didn't think you'd go for a murder-mystery at the end.”

“It was your idea, though.” He hummed, a smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “But it’s... good?"

 _“Good?_ It’s _amazing!”_ The clone was up on his feet, stars in his eyes. “I think you’ve got something great here-- you should pitch it!”

“M-me!?” Miles was taken aback, melting into the chair. “You know how shitty I am at pitching _anything,_ let alone something like _this_ \--”

“Come on, Miles. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Scott picked up the laptop, handing it back to his partner. “This isn’t like selling a product for our boss. This is yours. This is _personal_. It’s something you’re passionate about.” He patted Miles on the back. “Just think about it.”

Although Miles appreciated the sentiment, he knew Scott was one of the more biased people he knew. There was a chance he could simply be far too close to the story to realise if it was as great as he thought-- or perhaps it was Miles’ own personal doubts creeping in again.

Regardless of the answer, Miles felt more confident than he had about anything in quite some time. After all, if Scott supported him-- he might just be able to make this work out for the better.

* * *

Today was _finally_ the day. 

After months of living together in such confined space, the two of them were moving out of their crummy little apartment, and into the lavish house of their dreams. It was a grandiose place; two stories, three bedrooms, and enough room to fit everything they’d ever need.

It was also, thankfully, far from the rest of civilization - about an hour’s drive from their workplace, but more importantly, away from prying eyes. Their closest neighbour was out of ear shot, their houses all being surrounded by fields and farmland. It was the perfect place for privacy.

A place to call home.

Scott brought out yet another full moving box, placing it in the dining table next to the rest. He glanced at Miles, who was hastily making note of the contents of each, before taping up one after the other. The clone had noticed a shift in the other man’s moods as of late, which he’d first assumed was due to their current change of living space-- but it was more than that. Miles would smile far more often than he used to. It seemed so insignificant to most, but for Scott-- it filled him with such joy to see Miles like this-- especially after all he’d endured these past few months. 

“How’d it go with the new therapist?” Scott asked with a brief smile. “Forgot to ask you the other day.”

“It was… actually pretty good.” Miles was surprised at how much it had helped him-- far more than he’d ever expected. He’d never been very good at opening up to people, let alone a stranger, but he couldn’t complain with the results. “Already booked in for another session in a fortnight, so, yeah. Think I’m making progress.”

Scott hugged him, holding him close. “I’m so happy to hear that, Miles.”

“What about you?” Miles asked, pulling back. He stared intently at his eyes, reading his expression. “Do you need to talk to someone as well? They gave me some great recommendations.”

Scott sighed, leaning back against the table. “For now? I don’t think so. I’ve been feeling so much better since, well…” He looked away sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since everything that’s happened between us… I no longer feel quite as _anguished_ as before.”

A gentle hand on his hip soothed any worries Scott held on to, melting into an unexpected kiss. “Alright-- that’s it then,” Miles stated proudly. “Let’s get these loaded now, otherwise we’ll never get home.”

* * *

Leaning against a stack of boxes, Miles casually watched the man who had recently become the centre of his desires and affections. He was acting like a child on Christmas morning; eager to investigate every single inch of their new home-- opening every door, cupboard and drawer he came across.

It was quite cute, seeing Scott like this-- more full of life in recent days than they had been when they started living together. He held out a hand to catch the clone the next time he tried passing by him, knowing they had quite the task ahead of them.

“Well then-- time to get unpacking,” Miles stated, nodding towards their unpacked belongings. “I nearly forgot how many rooms there were here. This is going to take _weeks_.”

Scott grinned, taking the first off the pile. “Not if you’re quick enough.”

Nearly every item he unpacked was for the kitchen, so he’d spent most of the morning attempting to find a spot for everything they had. Miles had moved to the next room, finding a few boxes marked with _lounge room_ on the side. He tore open the box closest to him, and paused immediately when he eyed the contents.

A picture frame stared back at him from the top of the pile. Miles reached in, bringing it closer to view. It was the photo he’d kept from Scott when he’d been confronted by Dan-- even though his original intentions were questionable, Dan knew how to take a decent photo.

Staring at the two of them like this-- hand in hand, expressions bright with wide smiles and loving eyes-- caused a feeling of warmth to rush through his chest. 

He knew the perfect spot to place it to. Somewhere currently away from prying eyes, in the comfort of the master bedroom, upon their rather sad looking mantlepiece. Still-- it was a start. Miles knew there would be plenty more opportunities in the future to take photographs together.

On his way to the stairs, he stopped by the door of the next bedroom-- one of the guest rooms, in this case, considering the two were sharing. He glanced at the empty floor, noting the plain dull colour of the walls, meeting soft carpet underneath. 

Perhaps it didn’t need to be so empty.

Miles took a moment to imagine it in his mind; a crib in the corner, colourful pictures along the walls, an assortment of toys scattered across the room-- and a tiny bundle in his arms.

Could that still be a possibility? It made him smile, but he felt his heart ache.

It was still thrilling, this feeling-- the capability to finally have the family he’d always wanted. But it also terrified him to no end; such thoughts keeping him up late at night without sleep. Being a father was an experience he’d always hoped for, at some point in his life. Now he finally felt like he was settling down, and that such a life might actually be a possibility for him now.

Miles let out an exasperated sigh. He couldn’t focus on such ideologies right now. He wasn’t ready yet-- and there were still many boxes to unpack.

* * *

Miles had recently decided to take up more hobbies-- to keep himself busy, and assist in expressing himself when he didn’t have the words to define how he was feeling. He’d always enjoyed writing, but his recent script had taken him _years_ to finish-- getting to the point where he was sick of staring at it. But at least he pushed through to the end, and might even see it adapted to stage if he played his cards right.

But in this current moment, Miles was painting. He hadn’t painted anything in years, finding it difficult to have any motivation or creativity when his depression was at its worst. He honestly had no idea what it was that he was painting, but he had decided that some of the rooms - more specifically, the current uninhabited bedrooms - deserved a little more colour and decoration than the bland, eggshell white walls that surrounded him.

Miles placed down the brushes and paints for the first time in hours, taking a moment to stretch out his back and eye his work from afar. He’d started off with a simple pattern of clouds and birds, making their way from one wall to another. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it added just a slither of life to the room.

“This is coming along nicely,” Scott commented, leaning against the door frame. 

“Thanks,” Miles smiled softly, having not even noticed the other man’s presence until he spoke. He took a step back, hands playing with the hem of his jumper, which was now covered in different colour paints. “I, uh… I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing.”

“Doesn’t matter, I think it looks quite colourful.” Scott slowly strolled into the room, taking in all the new additions to the walls. “Brightens up the room for sure.”

There was a silence, as if something unspoken between them hung in the air. Miles knew exactly what it was, and he knew _exactly_ what he wanted to say about it. But he was afraid it might not be the right time, but then again-- how would he know when the right time would be? If he didn’t do something now, he might miss his chance-- and he’d already wasted enough time waiting for things to happen, instead of creating opportunities for himself.

“Do you want kids?” Miles asked suddenly, regretting the words as soon as they escaped his lips.

Never in his life had Scott been hit with a question that was so unexpected, that it rendered him completely speechless. “Do _you_ want kids?” he replied, throwing the question back at him.

Miles had gone completely rigid and he wasn’t sure why. “Well-- I mean, I just thought--” He cut himself off, eyeing the floor, and letting out a deep breath.

Having not quite realised what it is he wanted, Miles sat on the edge of the mattress silently, brow furrowed, deep in thought. Scott was concerned now, mirroring his actions and taking a seat beside him, arms brushing against each other.

“Miles,” Scott started, placing a hand on his thigh. “Do you want kids?”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, hands clasped together on his lap. “I… I think so. Yeah. I do.”

Scott hummed gently, unable to contain an infectious grin. “Me too.”

“Really?” Miles asked, as if it was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear.

“Of course, I’d love to raise a family.”

The clone held onto Miles’ hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But how would we, you know--”

“No idea,” Scott shrugged, his other hand snaking around Miles’ waist. “But we’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

* * *

Moving furniture into a new home was not an easy task, and by the end of their first day, they’d barely felt like they’d achieved anything. Most of their belongings were still packed away in boxes, which now littered the floor of every room, stacked haphazardly against the walls. 

The two headed downstairs to the kitchen, dropping everything that they were doing for a much deserved break. They were both covered in sweat, in dire need of a cold drink and a hearty meal. More importantly, they were expecting guests tonight, and if they didn’t get ready now-- then they’d make for terrible hosts.

Miles gasped once he’d finished a rather tall glass of water, running his hands under the flowing tap and bringing the cool water to his brow. He was about to refill, to offer a glass to his companion-- but the clone had other ideas.

Scott’s hand snaked around Miles, pulling him close, and discarding everything else in their hands. “Time to break in the new house,” he purred, wiggling his eyebrows inappropriately. “And I’ve the perfect spot in mind.”

Miles melted into the kiss, humming in appreciation as he was manhandled across the room, and pushed against the arm of the couch. The clone smirked before they both fell over the edge, landing on the soft cushions beneath, wrapped around each other in a mess of limbs.

He gasped for breath, pushing against the clone’s chest. “But what about--”

“Kate won’t be here for _hours_ , trust me,” Scott purred, nuzzling into his neck. “She’s _never_ early.”

Miles arched his back to the touch, slipping his hands underneath Scott’s shirt, tracing up the line of his back. He’d usually be nervous doing such a thing in the middle of the day, for all to hear, with the front door open no less-- but that was the benefit of living so far out in the country.

The clone pulled the collar of Miles’ shirt to the side, teeth brushing against his skin, before biting gently-- leaving another trail of love bites in his stead. Miles couldn’t handle the sensation, turning his head to capture the other man's lips again. Miles moaned into the kiss, clawing against his skin, his voice making sounds he barely recognised as his own.

“I love you,” Scott mumbled against his lips between breaths, only pausing briefly to enjoy the sight before him. “Miles…”

Even though that wasn’t the first time Miles had heard those words, even though Scott had made it clear what his feelings were - it was the first time that they truly sunk in. It caused him to shiver, heart beat drumming loudly in his ears as he stared at the man who loved him more than anyone else.

He’d only now realised that he’d never spoken those words back; he’d never reciprocated the sentiment, even though he knew it was how he felt. 

Miles bit his lip, voice lowering to a whisper, “Scott, I--”

_“Woah!”_

Both men startled in unison, eyes wide, bodies completely rigid. They turned cautiously towards the sound of the very familiar voice, unable to move from their current predicament; only to find a _very_ surprised Kate standing in their doorway.

Scott could do nothing more than freeze in place, like a deer in headlights; an awkward smile plastered across his face-- Miles practically mirroring his expression, their minds coming to a complete stop.

“Hi, Kate,” the two men greeted in unison, Miles’ voice unexpectedly breaking, before Scott added, “You’re early.”

She averted her eyes, covering her face in second-hand embarrassment. “I’m just gonna… come back in a few minutes.” Kate shuffled back awkwardly, making her way through the door again. With her back turned, she raised a finger, head to the side. “And then-- you’ve _both_ got some explaining to do.”

That sounded reasonable. After all, a few minutes was all they needed.

Alone once more, the two men finally met each other’s gaze, the tenseness of the moment causing them both to break out into laughter. Telling Kate of their relationship had been a stress point on both their parts, and now after such an unexpected reveal-- it was a huge relief off their shoulders.

Scott shifted his weight to sit up, but Miles had other plans-- latching onto his shirt and pulling him back down towards him with gentle force. Their noses brushed at the close proximity, chests pressed against one another.

The clone wasn’t sure what to say, knowing their current situation was a delicate predicament, and they’d be best to move-- but Miles had something on his mind, something unspoken on his lips. He was flushed, letting out an unexpected giggle like a teenager with a crush.

Both of his hands moved to either side of Scott’s face as he kept the clone close to him-- lips ghosting over his own, as Miles whispered to him;

“I love you, too.”


	6. I'm yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, after nearly a year we're finally at the epilogue... I'm so glad this is done! This story wasn't exactly how I'd first expected it to come out, but then again, I was aiming for about 30K words total. This is officially the longest thing I've ever written and I don't even know how that happened.
> 
> Anyway, this is just a mindless fluffy little epilogue for a bit of fun - really don't need to read this to experience the whole fic but there were a few silly ideas I couldn't get out of my head. There's a few time skips here and there, and the plot is pretty light, but it's nice to be able to finish off such a sad, angsty fic with something a little more light-hearted.
> 
> Also considering just how much of a rare-pair this is... I wanna say a big thanks to everyone who's supported me and this fic while I've been struggling to write it, really appreciate all the kudos and kind words. 
> 
> Hope to bring you more of these two in the future! I have so many other WIPs I hope to get out of these two so definitely stick around if you love this ship as much as I do <3

Miles was, without a doubt, freaking the hell out. He was at home, in their ridiculously oversized house-- but this time, he was alone. Somehow it made the place feel even bigger and more empty than usual. 

Honestly, he’d never expected to get this far, at least not so  _ soon _ . Not to get the wrong idea, or anything-- he  _ definitely _ wanted a family, whatever that might entail-- but  _ wanting _ was one thing, actually  _ getting it _ was a whole other reality. 

Today was a big day for both of them. Scott was out on an important errand - he’d gone out to finally bring home the two newest editions to their family, after weeks of paperwork and battling the legal system. That fact they made it to this was a miracle in itself. The last few months had been the toughest of their life, but now it was going to finally pay off. Or so he hoped.

Was he even ready yet? Were  _ either _ of them ready?

It wasn’t as if this was an overnight decision, but the idea of being a father had only become more prominent in his mind during the last few days, to the point where it was the only thing he’d think about during any waking moment.

But now the reality was setting in, and it was as if every single doubt in his mind was hitting him full force at once.

Miles shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He got to his feet, pacing the room a few more times. He had no idea what he was going to say, or what he was going to do-- should he even be here once they arrived? The last thing he wanted was to cause more confusion-- mostly due to the fact that he looked nearly identical to his clone, therefore assumed by most to be his  _ brother  _ \- and that thought alone made the idea of their relationship feel even weirder than it already was.

But the kids were young. They could get around the nature of their relationship for the sake of their family dynamic, and work from there.

Without another moment to think, Miles froze at the sound of the door opening. His breath hitched uncomfortably in his throat. Seeing the real thing is nothing like a photograph.

Two young girls - twins, although they certainly didn’t look identical - stepped into the front room, staring at Miles briefly with a look of silent curiosity. They were six years old, blonde hair and bright emerald eyes - and as far as Miles could tell, they were practically stuck to each other, never moving more than a few inches away from the other.

Sam and Tyler Elliott. Their daughters. It took a moment to really sink in.

Scott appeared behind them, briefly glancing at Miles with a reassuring smile, before heading upstairs in the wake of the children. He could already hear the two of them fighting over which bedroom they both wanted-- the same one, naturally. Kids will be kids, after all.

Miles finally let out a deep breath, not realising he’d been holding it in. He relaxed a little, feeling as if the ice had broken, and wondered what to do with himself now. There wasn’t exactly a book on  _ how to be a perfect dad, _ so Miles knew that he and Scott were going to be in for an interesting venture into the world of parenting.

Finally, he felt the dread in his chest dissipate and replaced with warmth and excitement for what was to come.

* * *

The initial settling in period went better than expected, but the two of them were still undecided on the work and home dynamics, and how they’d both balance all the changes to their lifestyle.

“Why am _ I _ the stay-at-home dad?” Miles asked, sounding very close to a complaint.

Scott shrugged. “Don’t have to be. We can take turns if you like.”

“That  _ is _ an option, at least,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Alright-- I guess I’ll start, and see how I go.”

The doppelganger could tell Miles lacked confidence in his own words from the sound of his voice. He could hazard a guess that Miles was feeling anxious at parenting by himself. He only needed more time to become accustomed to their new life-- Scott knew he’d get the hang of it in no time.

“It’s a good chance to bond,” the clone offered with a smile. “Plus, they’ll be starting school in a few months, then after that you can go back to work, and I’ll start looking for my own job.”

Miles hummed thoughtfully. “That _ does _ sound reasonable…”

“Come on-- have some confidence in yourself. You wanted kids too, remember? Of course it’ll be a little awkward at first, but we’ll get there. It’ll take a while for us to all settle in as a family.”

He smirked, side-eyeing his doppelganger. “As wise as ever, it seems.”

“You know me,” Scott replied innocently, placing a kiss on the other man’s cheek. “One of us has to be.”

* * *

It had been such a rare occurrence for the two of them to have intimate time together. They’d only managed to get to bed just shy of midnight, but for once-- neither of them fell asleep as they usually would. Miles could feel himself becoming more and more pent up lately, desperate for affection, even just to be held in the warm arms of his other half.

Scott had snuggled closer to him, snaking an arm around his waist, pulling their chests close to one another, hands roaming underneath his shirt. Miles was quick to comply, feeling himself straining in his briefs, desperate to be touched. He squirmed involuntarily, shivering as Scott’s hand caressed down his front ever so slowly, pausing at the hem of his briefs. He used his free hand to bring the clone in for a kiss, both moaning softly into the embrace. 

“Miles…” the clone breathed, nuzzling into his neck. “I want to--”

The two of them froze in shock as the door to their room swung open suddenly, followed by the twins running in with haste, hand in hand, the younger of the two sniffling between sobs. Miles sat up abruptly, attempting to wipe the blush from his cheeks and make himself somewhat presentable. Scott took the opportunity to hide under the covers, hoping to avoid getting up to help. 

Nightmares were one of those many childhood experiences that, as parents, they’d need to deal with. Miles had plenty of his own from experience, so it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. After a moment he managed to calm them down, ushering the two girls back to their bedrooms. Nothing that a few soft words and perhaps a short bedtime story couldn’t fix.

It was going to be one of many disrupted nights-- but it was what they signed up for when they became parents.

Scott poked his head over the covers as the other man returned minutes later, settling back down into their bed with a long, exacerbated sigh. Miles stared at the ceiling for a moment, now wide awake after all the comotion. He furrowed his brow, contemplating the last few minutes of interaction with the twins, and how his relationship with Scott might have appeared to their children.

“I wonder if they’ve noticed that we sleep in the same bed,” he stated bluntly, pulling a face. “That might raise too many questions down the line.”

“You make a good point,” Scott replied, lying on his side, arms crossed. “Which makes me wonder-- when they’re old enough to understand, how do you think we’ll explain our relationship?”

Miles covered his face with his hands as the image of such a conversation flashed before his eyes. He couldn’t help but cringe at the thought. They needed to make sure their story of being cloned was believable, because the last thing Miles wanted was for them to think they were  _ brothers. _

The doppelganger chuckled, snuggling a little closer. “We can’t exactly say  _ ‘no honey, we’re actually clones, but also sleeping together, and it’s totally normal and okay because we’re not related’.” _

All he received was a groan in response. “Shit,” Miles cursed, finally pulling his hands away to reveal crimson-tinted cheeks. “I never thought that far ahead.”

Scott laughed at the sight, pulling Miles in closely against him. “I’m sure we’re  _ years _ away from that-- nothing to worry about for now.”

Miles grumbled unintelligibly, wrapping his arms around the other man. He’d spent such a long time wanting the life they now had, that he didn’t even stop to consider such complexities. Even if the girls did recognise the closeness of their relationship with one another, they’d need to make sure it remained a secret, before they started telling everyone without proper context.

It was a problem for another day, Miles decided, knowing full well he needed some decent sleep before morning. The two of them would have to delay their intimate night together for another time, as they both struggled to keep their eyes open any longer.

Little did they know, their kids managed to piece their relationship together and figure out the truth many years before Miles and Scott gained the courage to confess-- much to their shared surprise. 

* * *

The family dynamic was far more hectic than Scott had initially expected.

After a few rough months as a stay-at-home dad, Miles had finally convinced Scott to swap places again so that he could get out of the house a little more, even if it was for work of all reasons. Scott couldn’t disagree-- and after all, how hard could it be to look after two six-year-olds?

It was certainly far more difficult than he’d first expected, but it was nothing that he couldn’t adapt to. Before he even realised it, the days were melting together, to the point where weeks were passing by without Scott noticing until he finally turned the calendar to the current month.

That’s when he finally realised it was April-- and to be more specific… the ninth of April. His birthday. Well-- technically it was Miles’ birthday as well, naturally-- but even Miles hadn’t mentioned anything about it. Perhaps they’d both become rather overworked since becoming parents, and simply lost track of time.

Scott’s eyes darted to the clock, noticing it was just past midday. Miles wouldn’t be home for at least another five hours or so, which might just give him enough time to do a little something special for the occasion. 

Raiding the kitchen with two inquisitive children in tow, he managed to find everything he needed, much to his surprise. A few choice bowls and utensils later, he was ready to get started. He pulled out his phone, idling searching for the simplest - and hopefully, tastiest - recipe he could find, placing the device down in viewing distance.

Sam and Tyler sat by the bench, looking on with curiosity, eager to help. At least he wouldn’t be alone during his first attempt to bake, but it didn’t fill him with the amount of confidence he’d prefer to have.

Scott would have to admit that it was quite an accomplishment that he’d managed to set a cake, of all things, on  _ fire _ . All that effort for nothing.

Discarding the destroyed desert, he finally had a chance to look at the absolute mess he’d made in the progress. Not only was the kitchen covered in a mess of flour and used kitchenware, but the twins were much the same; even their faces and hands were covered with chocolate and cake batter.

What had begun as a simple afternoon had all but escalated. It was going to take him hours to recover from this disaster. He hoped Miles would at least be able to appreciate their poor attempt at a sweet birthday gesture, and not the chaos that followed. 

But for now, Scott needed to get the place cleaned up before Miles returned, otherwise he wasn’t sure he could handle the embarrassment. Then of course, knowing his luck, Miles had managed to come home early today, of all days-- walking in on them and their house in complete disarray.

The clone tensed in surprise, awaiting a tired lecture or look of disappointment, but found quite the obvious. Miles laughed so hard at the sight of Scott and the kids that he had tears in his eyes. By the time Scott could comprehend his reaction, he was pulled into a tight hug, and a quick peck on the cheek.

“Come on,” Miles ushered, heading back towards the door. “We’ll go buy dinner instead… then worry about dessert later.”

Scott relaxed, a smile spreading across his face as his shoulders no longer felt so tense. He watched the rest of the family hurry out to the car, before grabbing his jacket off the back of the door, and joining them.

* * *

With the twins now enrolled at school, and Scott occupied with a new job of his own, he’d taken it upon himself to pick up the kids on the way home from work. It just so happened that it was in close distance of his new workplace, and his hours were far more flexible than what Miles’ job offered.

Much to his dismay, Scott had become somewhat talked about with the other parents when he’d dropped by. Apparently he was quite the catch - their words, not his. Perhaps it was because of the assumption that he was single - and rightfully so - but there was something about the gossipy single mothers that would irk him from time to time. All he wanted was to see his kids, take them home, and wrap his arms around Miles after a long day.

Unfortunately, today was a little different. 

Sam had come down with a rather angry bug, keeping her at home with Scott there to look after her. The twins were inseparable, so it broke their hearts to see them momentarily separated, but they couldn’t keep them both at home, as much as they’d liked to. So now it was up to Miles to collect Tyler after school - and thankfully, he’d managed to get away from work early enough to not keep her waiting. 

Miles wasn’t exactly a spitting image of his clone, as ironic as that sounded. They both had their own wardrobe, different haircuts - even the way they held themself - it was clear enough for them to not get mistaken for one another. The problem lied with the fact that Miles was not known at the school, so there’d be some explaining to do once he’d turn up looking for his daughter.

The main problem was he had no idea where he was supposed to be going, and the school wasn’t exactly  _ small _ .

There was a group of mothers standing in front of the building, chatting between themselves as their young kids ran amok around them. From what he could tell, they appeared the same age as his own, which hopefully meant he was heading in the right direction.

Miles stopped where he was, backtracking a few steps to interrupt their conversation, asking for directions. All he had was a classroom number, and the way these buildings were organised was so confusing that he wondered how the kids figured out where to go.

After a point in the right direction, he was back on track; finding the room he was looking for, and a rather confused looking teacher. It would probably be a strange situation to see a twin of someone that had never been mentioned before, so he couldn’t blame them for staring.

“I’m Miles. My, uh--” He paused, unable to say the word without visibly cringing. “Scott’s at home with Sammy, so... he asked me to pick Tyler up.”

The teacher barely had a chance to respond before they were interrupted. 

“Papa!” Tyler yelled at the top of her voice, running towards him. 

The word was still rather foreign to him, and he was still getting used to associating himself with the role of a father, but he loved how it made him feel warm inside.

“Hey, peanut!” Miles leaned down and pulled her up into his arms for a much-needed hug. “How was your day?”

“ _ Terrible _ ,” she said, pouting, before adding quietly, “I miss my sister…”

“So do I,” he replied fondly. “Come on-- let’s get home and see how she’s doing.”

The thought never occurred to Miles that their interaction would be rather strange considering he wasn’t, as far as other people were concerned, a parent… moreso a  _ relative _ of a parent, and not even a spouse. He simply shrugged the thought away-- after all, their family was no one else’s business.

* * *

Maia was at a loss.

Her brother’s kids were by far the most well-behaved children she’d ever met. Any time she’d head over to their house, usually with Henry in tow, they were always polite, well dressed, and well spoken. Maia loved being an aunty, but sometimes when she would visit, she’d have the tiniest of doubt in the back of her mind that perhaps kids weren’t all as loud and noisy as she’d thought, and perhaps her childfree lifestyle might change after all.

Thankfully, that entire concept flew out the window as soon as she babysat for the first time-- at her own place, no less. It was as if a flip had switched, and she was now responsible for two devilish terrors who were running around far too quickly for her to catch up with, and laying their tiny hands on anything they could reach. 

Henry, who she often used as artistic reference and inspiration, was surprisingly now frozen on his own accord. Generally he’d complain if he couldn’t move for long periods of time when Maia used him as her muse, but now he’d practically turned into a statue; simply standing in the corner of the room as the destruction unfolded, at a complete loss for what to do.

Kids were never their forte, but she’d promised the boys that she could look after them for a whole day-- and she’d be damned if she didn’t keep that promise. She could tell both Miles  _ and _ Scott were exhausted from their non-stop fatherly duties these last six months, and were in desperate need of a little time-out, and most certainly some quiet time together.

Which is why Maia was determined to make it through the day; if those two idiots could parent day in and day out, then of course she could get through ten measly hours!

She turned her head at the sound of a loud thud, followed by something expensive sounding being smashed to pieces. With a deep sigh, she pushed down all her frustration, turning to her  _ delightful _ nieces, and mentally prepared herself for the task at hand.

Maia would be lying if she said the day moved fast. At some points she was positive that time was at a standstill-- but eventually, the sun began to set, and she was finally soon to be free.

As an all-too familiar car pulled into the driveway, she was thankful that it was finally over. After a quick catch-up and debrief, she decided to leave out most of the worst parts of the day-- after all, seeing Miles and Scott as happy and refreshed as they were after their day out filled her with satisfaction that her sisterly duties had paid off.

Slightly dishevelled, and entirely exhausted from the day’s events, Maia stood by the door frame, waving them off into the distance as they drove home.

“Henry?” She called out, not turning her head. “You there?”

There was a muffled sound of movement behind her, as various items were kicked across the floorboards. “Yeah?” he replied.

“Make sure we _ never _ have kids.”

A hearty laugh was all she received in response.

* * *

Miles had, for the most part, grown out of his anxiety-riddled tendencies, but they had a nasty habit of turning up again when he was in a particular headspace. He was standing by the front window, looking out to the empty field in front of their property, deep in thought. A sleeved hand rested on his chin, tapping back and forth as he considered a multitude of scenarios in his mind.

Scott placed a hand on Miles’ shoulder, causing him to flinch. “Still nervous?” He asked, tilting his head. “Everything will be just  _ fine _ .”

“I know, I know…” Miles fidgeted, shifting his weight. “I’m not used to entertaining guests, let alone having them at my house, and cooking, and--”

“Miles.” Scott’s hand shifted, now resting on the small of Miles’ back, in an attempt to calm him. “We’ll be fine.”

The last few months had gone by so quickly that they hadn’t had a chance to even see Kate since their last, rather  _ awkward _ encounter. It certainly wasn’t the reveal they’d initially planned for, but after a long conversation and some uncomfortable confessions, she was surprisingly on board with their relationship after the initial shock wore off.

After the hell that was the process of adoption, and settling in with their new family, they’d had to put off most other aspects of their life, including socialising. They’d been meaning to have a moving-in party a while back, with only their closest friends and family-- but everything else began to get in the way, to the point where they’d delayed it for far too long.

It was about time they had some time to catch up for food and good company, they could both use a break after the last couple of weeks.

Miles still felt that he and Kate had unfinished business, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. They hadn’t had the chance to speak to one another since she’d found him and his clone in a rather compromising position… 

It wasn’t as if Miles had any issues with his rather unusual romantic partner, but it was still a situation that would take some adjusting,  _ especially _ with someone like Kate, who had been such a big part of their lives for so long.

All they could do was hope for the best.

* * *

Kate stood idly at the kitchen bench, leaning against it as she stared off into the distance, drink in one hand, and head full of conflicting thoughts.

Miles and Scott were on the other side of the room, chatting amongst themselves regarding something that must have been humorous in nature; Miles reacting with such a genuine smile that there was no way to deny he was enjoying their time together.

It still didn’t help Kate feel weirded out by the relationship, but considering how happy they appeared to be together - and with their newfound children - that there was nothing she could complain about.

This was a rare occurrence for her as well, being the first time since her daughter was born that she’d had a chance to go out by herself. She didn’t exactly enjoy being away from her husband and children, but still-- the momentary peace and quiet, with the company of people she cared for, was an opportunity she couldn’t let up.

Kate hadn’t realised how deep in thought she’d lost herself, until the person now beside her elbowed her gently.

“So... did you figure it out, or did they tell you?” Maia asked, leaning up against the table with a drink in her hand.

Kate startled at the unexpected conversation. “What?”

“Those two idiots over there,” she gestured with an inappropriate waggle of her eyebrows. “Did they tell you?”

“Oh.” Kate glanced away, furrowing her brow. “No…” She replied slowly, smile tugging at the edge of her lips. “I walked in on them.”

Maia erupted in laughter, slapping her on the back with a little more force than intended. “Damn, they don’t let up for a second.”

“Wait a minute,” Kate looked at Maia with a suspicious expression. “You knew?”

“Oh yeah,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known since  _ before _ it happened.”

* * *

“Miles.”

The man in question turned his head, a look of surprise briefly highlighting his features before softening. 

It was Kate-- and she appeared as if she had something on her mind; something important to discuss. The concept filled him briefly with anxiety. He could feel his clone holding his hand beside him, the grip loosening before falling away. Miles turned back to him, seeing the doubt and discomfort in Scott’s eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the expression.

Miles suddenly found himself pulled into a surprisingly tight embrace, arms flailing momentarily before returning the gesture. It wasn’t an act he was expecting, but as far as he could tell, it meant that despite their past, the two of them could continue to call each other friends.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled apologetically. “For everything.”

“Don’t be,” Miles chuckled softly, even though he couldn’t quite tell what it was she was referring to specifically. He’d let go of their rocky past a while back, hoping to work on amending their friendship going forward. “Everything’s turned out for the best, wouldn’t you agree?”

Now  _ that  _ was an understatement. 

Miles sometimes wondered how their life would have turned out by now, if the two of them had stayed together, or even if they’d separated-- but not because of the cloning incident. In fact, Miles wondered if he’d ever found such happiness if it wasn’t for Scott-- which was a notion he would have definitely disagreed with when they first met one another.

Speaking of - Miles’ eyes met the other man’s briefly, as he continued to inch further away from the embracing pair. Scott appeared as if he was an outcast, and it made Miles’ heart ache. But before he could protest, Kate pulled away momentarily, following Miles’ gaze. 

“Scott.” 

The clone flinched, feet stopped dead in their tracks, turning on his heels with an innocent expression. 

“Come here,” Kate requested, holding out an arm. Miles mirrored her action, urging the clone to join them.

After a moment of awkward, silent contemplation, Scott complied, stepping over to them and letting himself be pulled in, arms wrapping around him. It felt surprisingly calming, as if they’d finally accepted each other, moved on from their fights and bickering, and now able to remain in each other’s lives in a way they never thought possible before.

Kate continued to stare at the clone after they’d separated, causing him to shift uncomfortably. He stilled as a hand touched his cheek, caressing it gently with no words, only a soft smile, and repeating the action with Miles.

“I’m so glad you two have each other.”

To say Scott was stunned wouldn’t do the word justice. Even Miles was speechless, lips parted but unmoving. Kate gave them both another quick smile before leaving the two alone, rejoining the others in their festivities.

Scott eventually leaned in a little closer to Miles, as his mind attempted to catch up with the last few minutes of events. “So that was… unexpected.” 

Miles nodded in agreement. “I honestly never expected her to take this so well,” he added.

“To be fair though--” The clone chuckled, arm snaking around Miles’ waist as usual. “I thought the same about you.”

“You make a good point.”

The two men shared a laugh, as Miles rested his head on the clone’s shoulder. “I’m really happy that, after all that shit we went through… it’s turned out as well as this.”

“Yeah.” Scott nuzzled into his hair with a sigh. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think <3
> 
> I've got two more big multi-chapter fics in the works, not sure which one I'll start on first. But anyway, definitely more to come!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think so far.  
> Comments are loved and appreciated, and I can begin to tell you how much they motivate me!  
> (●´ω｀●)


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